


Hours of Haunting

by ScribeOfRhapsody



Series: Hours of an Alternate Life [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst and Feels, Character Death, F/M, Friendship, HighSpecs, Hurt/Comfort, Loqi is an awful person, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-11 15:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 134,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRhapsody/pseuds/ScribeOfRhapsody
Summary: Insomnia has fallen. Loqi has escaped. Was everything they went through three years ago even worth it?





	1. The Peace

**Author's Note:**

> And here… we… gooooooo… Are you ready?

 Insomnia was a beautiful city, of that there was no doubt, but the fresh sea air of Gladin Quay was a vast improvement that Ignis could feel with every breath. The sound of the waves was even peaceful, despite his past troubles with water. He had no problems as he carried two cups of decaffeinated tea down the lengthy bridge that connected the Mother of Pearl to the beach.

 

It had been some while since the sun had sunk below the horizon, yet Noct had not returned from the nearby fishing spot. Not that Ignis had expected him to. Noct could lose himself for hours once he had a rod in his hand, plus there was no real hurry. Dino had said their boat wouldn’t arrive until morning.

 

The morning… when they’d be setting out to the city where Noct would be wed to Lunafreya. So strange to entertain that thought. Ignis had always hoped Noct would be able to reunite with Lady Lunafreya, but he certainly hadn’t expected it to be like this.

 

Ignis approached the dock Noct was sitting on and stomped his foot lightly on the wood, letting Noct know he was there on the chance that he hadn’t heard him approaching. It had become second nature to send the Prince signals like that in the last few years. Learning to deal with being nearly deaf in his right ear had been a challenge for Noct, but he’d struggled through it, and Ignis had struggled with him. In turn, Noct had helped him smooth out his own issues.

 

They were much closer than they had been prior to the events of their mutual time being kidnapped.

 

Noct glanced over his shoulder at him. “Hey.”

 

“Good evening,” Ignis returned, offering him his mug of tea. “I thought you might want something to combat the chill of the nighttime seaside winds.”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” Noct accepted the mug, then gestured to the water. “Check it out.”

 

Ignis adjusted his spectacles, squinting into the rippling water, where there was a surprising amount of light. The lights moved, and Ignis realized their sources were the fish themselves. “Those are remarkable…”

 

“Right?” Noct scooted to one side. “You gonna stand there all night, or what?”

 

Ignis chuckled. “I don’t want to intrude.”

 

“Nah, it’s cool. C’mon.”

 

And so Ignis sat.

 

Noct was quiet for a bit after that, not even really paying attention to his rod so much as watching the fish. His tea remained untouched.

 

“…A gil for your thoughts?” Ignis prodded gently. Clearly, Noct had a lot on his mind.

 

A smile tugged at Noct’s lips before quickly vanishing. “It’s just… stuff.”

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow, waiting patiently as he took a sip of his tea and signed _stuff?_ with his free hand.

 

It had become somewhat of a habit for the two of them to slip into signing at times – Ignis for convenience if he was on the phone or preoccupied by an Ebony, and Noct to irritate Gladio since he couldn’t understand. Ignis had one particularly fond memory where Noct had started signing him the weather report that was on the TV at the moment while he smirked at Gladio’s increasing frustration. The Shield had been convinced that Noct was signing something particularly amusing about him, especially after Ignis lost his battle against laughing himself.

 

Noctis sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just… this whole wedding thing.”

 

“You are not excited at the prospect of marrying Lady Lunafreya?” Ignis questioned. He’d been wondering about Noct’s true feelings on the matter.

 

“Well… no? But yes?” Noct shook his head. “I mean… I don’t wanna _not_ marry her, but… Astrals, Iggy, it’s been _twelve years_ since I’ve seen her, and suddenly we’re getting married because the Empire says so?”

 

Ignis nodded. He’d suspected as much. “That’s perfectly understandable. And I’m certain Lady Lunafreya has similar concerns. Why not speak to her about it in her next letter?”

 

“No!” Noct rounded on him with wide eyes. “No… I don’t want her to think… I _am_ excited to see her, I don’t want to make it seem like I’m not by bringing _that_ up.”

 

“Ah. Well, then, perhaps it’s best you consult with her in person after the initial reunion has taken place?”

 

“Yeah, I guess…” Noctis was still glumly scowling. He glanced at Ignis again, expression flickering over to exasperated in an instant. “Wait, what are you doing down here with me, anyway?”

 

Ignis sipped his tea, raising both his eyebrows this time. “Is there somewhere else in particular that I should be?”  

 

“Well…” Noct looked at the restaurant, then back. “Yeah! You should be back there talking with…” He trailed off with a sigh. “Never mind…”

 

“Noct…” Ignis had gotten quite good at honing his _tell me_ tone over the last few years.

 

Noct shrugged. “You seemed like you were having a good time talking to that waitress earlier, and she seemed like she was kind of enjoying it too.”

 

Ignis blinked. “You’re referring to Coctura?”

 

“Um, yeah.” Noct smirked faintly. “I’ve kind of learned to pay more attention to body language.”

 

While Ignis knew Noct had indeed learned to rely on his other senses to compensate for not being able to pick up on others’ tones at time, the Prince had most definitely interpreted things wrong in this case. “Noct, I can assure you Coctura is not interested in me, and that feeling is mutual. She seems like a lovely young woman, but I do not see her in any type of romantic way.” Not… exactly his type. Perhaps she would have been, were it not for… certain encounters. Plus, he was fairly certain she had her eye on that reporter, Dino.

 

Noctis sighed again, louder this time.

 

Ignis nearly rolled his eyes. “Prompto and Gladio are single as well, and yet I don’t see you razzing them with even half of this intensity. Why are you so interested in my dating life?”

 

“You mean lack thereof?” Noct flicked his wrist, making his fishing pole disappear. “ _Because_ I seem to recall a certain deal we formed years ago about you having a life outside of me?”

 

“I have a life, and it is one I am perfectly content with.” Content. That was all he could be in terms of certain relationships. Some stars weren’t meant to align.

 

“ _Content?_ ”

 

“ _Happy,_ ” Ignis amended. “I have no qualms, particularly in the last few years. You know this – I’ve enjoyed every moment of our time spent on games and TV shows.”

 

“I know you have,” Noct muttered.

 

Ignis tilted his head. “Why am I getting the feeling this is about more than you’re saying, yet again?”

 

Noct stared into the water again. “I’m getting married, Specs. Things… aren’t exactly gonna be the same. I don’t… I don’t want you to go back to being a workaholic and not having any fun.”

 

Ignis smiled faintly and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m touched by your concern, Noct, but you needn’t worry about me. I’m sure we’ll manage to slip in a few time-wasting days here and there still.”

 

“Hey!” Noct frowned. “What do you mean _time-wasting?_ ”

 

Ignis sent him a slight smile, retracting his hand. “A jest, Noct. Truly. I don’t need a spur-of-the-moment relationship to keep me happy.”

 

“Fine.” Noct crossed his arms. “But it would hardly be a sudden thing. I’d say you’re due, considering the last time you had a girlfriend was… man, have you _ever?_ ”

 

Ignis hesitated. He still truly hated discussing his personal matters like this, but it was _Noct_ asking. They didn’t keep many secrets from each other, though Ignis had kept this one for years simply because the matter had never come up. And… frankly, it was embarrassing. “Noct, I…”

 

“…What?” Noct was observing him curiously now, no doubt reading his discomfort. Discomfort was a rarity between them, at this point. Helping one another through panic attacks tended to have that effect on more meager discussions – they seemed so trivial in comparison.

 

Ignis berated himself mentally. This was petty. He needed to spit it out. “My heart is already taken. It has been for some while.” He nearly reached into his pocket to touch his phone. Even without looking at the timestamp on her last message, Ignis knew it had been one week and three days since her last text. Nothing to be concerned about. She’d warned him she’d be out of contact on a job for a while.

 

“Wait, what?” Noct sat up straighter. “By who?”

 

“ _Whom._ ”

 

Noct rolled his eyes. “Whatever! You can’t just stop there! Who is she? Have I met her?”

 

Ignis willed the redness of his cheeks to vanish. “You have… around three years ago.”

 

He saw the wheels turn in Noct’s head as he figured it out.

 

“Wait… Aranea?”

 

Ignis nodded softly. “She and I have kept up a correspondence over the years. One… I did not expect to provoke such a great amount of affection within me.”

 

Noct snorted. “That’s generally how it goes in the movies. So, are you two, like, official?”

 

Ignis barked out a laugh. “Heavens, no. I haven’t the faintest idea if she sees me in the same way. And even if she did, it couldn’t possibly work out. That, I accepted a long time ago.”

 

“Says who?”

 

Ignis gave him a look. “Says our vastly different lifestyles, Noct. I am Advisor to the future King of Lucis, and she’s a mercenary. Those are not compatible occupations.”

 

“Dunno about that, Iggy.” Noct smirked. “I’ve seen her fight. She wouldn’t be a bad addition to the Glaive.”

 

Ignis chuckled. “I appreciate the effort, Noct, but please do not try to give me hope where there is none. I know our paths are not going to align in that way, and it is something I must deal with in my own time.”

 

“…Okay, but, like, the offer to her is still open for any time. Just for the record.”

 

“I’ll be certain to let her know.” Ignis took another sip of his tea.

 

Aranea. A Glaive or Crownsguard. Ridiculous. She was far too much of a free spirit for that.

 

This one trip aside, his life was entirely too boring for her. That kidnapping was the only thing she’d consider to be eventful that had happened in Insomnia his entire life.

* * *

 

 

“Libertus? Come on, Lib! Come on! Stay with me!”

 

Nyx’s insides churned, nausea held at bay by will alone as he pressed his joined hands down in a steady rhythm.

 

Nothing. No breath of life. No thrum of a pulse.  

 

His best friend’s eyes remained glassy, staring blankly into the sky.

 

“Dammit, Libertus!”

 

The idiot _had_ to go and inadvertently get himself mixed up with the Niffs. He _had_ to try and fix his mess by coming to Nyx’s aid. He _had_ to repay all those times he’d owed Nyx by taking that damn bullet that escaped Imperial had fired at him.

 

“Captain…” Pelna’s voice was soft, like if he spoke louder he might spook Nyx, or bring the whole of Niflheim down on them.

 

Nyx ignored him, his rhythm not faltering.

 

“Captain…” Pelna’s voice rose just a bit.

 

 _Captain._ The title was a bitter punch in the gut. Some Captain he was. Crowe was dead, shot down by Tredd himself. The King was dead, impaled by the sleazy oh-so-charming Chancellor. The Glaive – _his_ Glaive – had turned on them. Insomnia had fallen thanks to Tredd and his traitorous goons.

 

No. Not Libertus too. _Please._

 

“Captain…”

 

Six, _please._ Just give him this…

 

“Nyx!” Pelna grabbed his shoulder, yanking him around to face him. “He’s gone…”

 

Nyx’s breath hitched as he brought his hand up to press his fist against his mouth. “I know. I know…”

 

The soft click of heels echoed on the pavement as the Oracle approached them with empathy written on her face. “There was nothing you could have done.”

 

Nyx didn’t say anything. He gently pulled away from Pelna’s grip, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently closed Libertus’ eyes.

 

He only allowed himself a moment more before he rose back to his feet. He almost wished Lunafreya hadn’t tricked Tredd into getting himself killed with the Ring of the Lucii so he could kill the bastard himself, but he’d have to make do with knowing the man had burned.

 

“Let’s go.” Nyx’s voice sounded hollow and rough to his own ears, but the other two didn’t argue.

 

The trio headed for the edge of the city, trying not to look back at the destruction of the once beautiful city behind them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here, my lovelies, is some art some awesome people drew for 49 Hours!
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's Ignis' attempted suicide.](https://www.deviantart.com/shinigami-merchant/art/49-Hours-Art-Sacrifice-755553227)
> 
>  
> 
> [And when Noct was having the bullet removed from his arm.](http://pinkcloudsarecool.tumblr.com/post/176357487384/this-is-old-and-so-sketchy-and-i-need-to-clean)


	2. The Fall

 

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Ignis’ eyes flickered open, and he blinked several times, trying to reorient himself after being so abruptly awoken in the dark.

 

Hotel. Galdin Quay. Right.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

His phone was ringing and vibrating on the nightstand, and he quickly made a grab for it. He and Noct had opted to share one of the motel’s oversized beds while Gladio and Prompto took the other, so Noct was the closest to the noise. Not a chance of him waking up to this, but even if Gladio was on the other half of the room, he’d been trained into being a light sleeper, and it was unlikely that he hadn’t already been roused by the noise.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Sure enough, Gladio groaned from across the room as Ignis yanked the power cord out of his phone, fumbling for his spectacles as well as he blindly sought out the door to the room.

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

Finding it, he pushed out into the hallway, heading for the dining area, which he knew would be free of people at whatever the time was currently.

 

Still unable to tell who was calling since his phone was blinding his not-yet-adjusted eyes, Ignis prodded the green blob and held the phone up to his ear, trying not to yawn. If he was being called this late – he was still unsure of the exact time, but it had to be past midnight – it had to be important.

 

“Scientia speaking.”

 

“ _Specs? Oh, thank the Astrals. You okay?_ ”

 

Ignis stopped dead in the middle of the empty dining area. That voice… He’d remembered it fondly, but in the last three years they’d only ever texted. “Aranea?” He double checked the caller ID and glanced at the time. “I… yes, I’m well.”

 

There was a sigh of relief on the other end. “ _Glad to hear it. You and the guys got out of the city on time, then? I still have some contacts in the Empire that told me what happened, but they weren’t much use in pinning down your location._ ”

 

Ignis’ half-asleep brain tried to sort out her words. “Aranea, you’re going to have to forgive the lagging of my mind at the moment, as it is currently three in the morning and I’m not entirely convinced as of yet that I’m not hallucinating this call.” How had she even known he was leaving the city at all? He hadn’t mentioned that in his messages because she’d been absent for the last few days.

 

“ _…You were sleeping?_ ”

 

Ignis frowned. Six, he’d wanted to actually speak with her again, but this was nothing like how he’d imagined it. He’d imagined it making sense. “That is generally what one does at three in the morning.”

“ _Yeah, no shit, but not generally when– okay, where the hell are you?_ ”

 

Finally, something simple to answer. “Galdin Quay.”

 

“ _…How the hell did you get that far already?_ ”

 

“Well, we left Insomnia over two days ago – it’s hardly _that_ far.”

 

“ _Wait, two days? Then you weren’t… Damn, you don’t even know, do you?_ ”

 

“Know what?” Why was he getting such a deep sense of foreboding about this? “Aranea, what is going on? You’ve never called me before – why now? What’s happened?”

 

There was silence on her end before she swore. “ _I’m so sorry, Ignis… It’s Insomnia. The Empire launched a full assault last night. The city’s fallen._ ”

* * *

 

 

Gladio stared at the ceiling blearily, waiting for Ignis to return before he went back to sleep. If that call was something important from the city, he wanted to know about it. Except Ignis was taking a _really_ long time. Gladio wasn’t the best at keeping time mentally, but it had to have been at least a good half hour.

 

Another few minutes, and Gladio decided it was time to do some checking up. He pushed out of the bed as gently as he could. Prompto stirred a little with a grumble at the weight shift, but he didn’t wake, and Gladio managed to get out of the room without causing much more noise.

 

He couldn’t hear Ignis, but there really wasn’t another way he could have gone that wasn’t back to the dining room, so Gladio headed in that direction.

 

“Are you certain?” Ignis’ voice wasn’t much more than a hushed whisper, and his free hand was clenched tightly at his side when Gladio found him. “Don’t apologize. I needed to know. Thank you. I will. Take care of yourself as well…” He trailed off, his phone hand falling limply to hang on his other side as the call ended. He didn’t move for a few moments.

 

“Iggy?” Gladio frowned when Ignis actually flinched and snapped around to face him, apparently not knowing he was there before. “Hey, what’s up?”

 

Ignis’ expression was uncharacteristically blank for a few moments, and then he blinked and was moving back towards their room. “We need to wake Noct and Prompto.”

 

“…Okay.” Gladio moved out of his way and then followed him. The way Ignis was acting… Gladio was just going to go along with him for now.

 

Prompto lurched awake as soon as Ignis shoved through the door, and then screamed dramatically into a pillow that he shoved over his own face when Ignis hit the lights.

 

“Dude, _why?_ ”

 

Ignis didn’t answer. He walked straight over to Noct and grabbed his shoulder firmly, shaking him. “Noct, wake up.”

 

Noct had slept like a log _before_ his hearing damage – now it was near impossible to wake him up with noise alone.

 

Noct’s groan was louder than Prompto’s as he dragged his eyes open with a grimace and looked around. “Specs? What the hell – it’s still dark out…”

 

“Noct.”

 

The tone of Ignis’ voice was so firm that Noct’s face instantly shifted. “…What? What’s wrong?”

 

“There was an attack.” Ignis paused, looking hesitant as he continued. “The Imperial army has taken the Crown City.”

 

“ _What?_ ” Noct demanded, shooting upright and jostling Ignis’ hand from his shoulder.

 

Gladio was thinking along the same lines, but kept silent. He knew Ignis would elaborate.

 

Prompto abruptly tore the pillow from his head, sitting up. “Taken? Like, the whole thing?”

 

Ignis’ gaze flickered between Noct and Gladio, and Gladio felt a lurch in his stomach not too different from when he’d been punched in the gut during training. That one look. That’s all he needed. He knew. He knew _exactly_ what Ignis was about to say next.

 

Gladio gave a slow nod, squaring his jaw and silently giving Ignis permission to give Noct his full attention for what was about to come.

 

“…Noct, I am so sorry.”

 

Gladio could see the exact moment Noct figured it out too.

 

Noct shook his head, denial and anger steadily rising in his eyes. “No… No, he’s not…”

 

Ignis stared straight at him. “Your father has passed.”

 

“Passed?” Noct’s voiced cracked, filled with raw emotion. “You mean _murdered!_ ”

 

“…Yes.”

 

Gladio’s fists curled, blunt ends of his fingernails digging into his skin by pure force. There was no doubt in his mind that his own father was dead, almost positively a few seconds to minutes before the King himself. His father never would have let his King and best friend die before him.

 

“No, wait, hold on…” Noct said, like he was trying to think of something, but the thoughts wouldn’t form.

 

Ignis looked down at the wrinkled sheets. “We had no way of knowing.”

 

“What? Knowing what?” Noct grabbed hold of the comforter tightly.

 

“That the signing was last night. That Insomnia–”

 

“But the wedding! Altissia!”

 

“I _know_. That _was_ the plan. Yet the report of the invasion was from a reliable source – one who cares for the Empire no more than us.”

 

It struck Gladio as odd that Ignis was avoiding using the name of his source, but given Noct’s expression, he clearly knew who Ignis was talking about. Apart from that, though, Gladio could tell Ignis was still holding something back. “What else do we know?”

 

Something behind Ignis’ expression twisted darkly. “Loqi. It seems… that the Imperials have freed him.”

 

“Son of a _bitch!_ ” Noctis threw his covers off – forcing Ignis to move – and then grabbed the clothes he’d been wearing the day before. “Get dressed and get everything into the car. We’re leaving.”

 

Despite the situation, Gladio almost cracked a smile. Noct acting on rage wasn’t the best solution, but at least he was taking charge. As twisted as it was, the Tummelt Affair had actually done Noct good. There was a world of difference between the teen he’d been a few years back and now. And, well, Gladio couldn’t blame him for being angry. Gladio had wanted to rip that Imperial rat apart himself with his bare hands for years.

 

“Wha… where to?” Prompto asked, trying to get out of bed without tripping over the sheets twisted around his legs.

 

Noct paused with his back to them. “Insomnia. We can’t be sure until we see it ourselves.”

* * *

 

 

Gone.

 

One night, and everything about the lives they’d led up to this point was gone.

 

Ignis closed the trunk to the Regalia with far more force than necessary as the last of their luggage was packed back into the car.

 

A rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, and Ignis sucked in a breath, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the Regalia and not the dark clouds above, which the area around him was only just light enough to allow him to make out since the sun had yet to rise.

 

_Breathe._

 

He was the last Lucian that had any right to be having problems right now. _He_ was alive. _He_ was unharmed. Even if his blood family was… Well, his closest friends were safe, at least. The refugees of Insomnia couldn’t say the same. His own friends couldn’t say the same.

 

One thing was almost for certain: they’d all lost someone.

 

His Uncle… King Regis… Gladio’s father… the chances of any of them making it out of the Citadel were beyond slim, given their positions. And who else? Iris? Cor? Nyx? Truly related or not, Ignis knew Cor and Nyx were the father and older brother Prompto had never had since his early introduction to the Crownsguard. The two carried a type of mentor quality even Ignis and Gladio couldn’t provide. Not to mention Pelna…

 

Ignis forced himself away from the car and headed back towards the hotel where the others were finishing up collecting the smaller items they’d brought, such as Prompto’s camera and Gladio’s small book bag that he liked to pretend he could live without.

 

Ignis squinted across the parking lot. It was far too dark for comfort. The daemons were bound to be about for quite a while longer, but he wasn’t even going to try and talk Noct into staying longer, and neither was he going to make him drive as he’d once done every time the sun went down. After all their driving lessons together in the last few years, Noct was a plenty reliable driver at night. No need to test him, and he clearly wasn’t in the best mindset to pay attention to the road at the moment anyway–

 

Another rumble of thunder swept through the otherwise still air, and Ignis shuddered.

 

_Get a hold of yourself._

 

What the bloody hell was wrong with him? He was beyond this – it had been almost two years since his last… incident, and that had been a minor one.

 

Ignis almost snorted at his own naivety. Everything he’d read on the topic told him that these things didn’t just go away in a couple of years. Most said it didn’t fully _ever_ go away. How stupid had he been to expect otherwise? Granted, he hadn’t believed it was going to be easy at first, but Noct’s assistance and encouragement had helped him make so much progress. He hadn’t had trouble with rain or a shower in so long that he hadn’t worried about either setting him off until… now. As soon as he’d stepped outside and felt the atmospheric shift that came with storms… it was as though he was back during the first few months after the Tummelt Affair: unable to make it to the Citadel if the day started with rain on his roof, unable to bathe without Noct nearby in case he couldn’t handle–

 

_Breathe, dammit!_

 

Ignis tried to relax his shoulders, beginning the breathing pattern he’d found to be the most calming as he began tapping his fingers of his right hand to the pad of his thumb in a familiar rhythm. _Index, index… middle, ring, pinky. Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

“That’s everything!” Prompto squawked as he suddenly darted past Ignis, heading for the Regalia.

 

Noct was up ahead while Gladio was back by the restaurant pier speaking to a very exhausted-looking hotel receptionist.

 

Noct jogged over to meet Ignis. “As soon as Gladio’s done settling things with the staff, we should be good to go.”

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

 

“Hm,” Ignis acknowledged, not trusting his voice at the moment.

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

 

“Hard to tell how long it’ll take to get back since we had so many stops on the way, but I figure if we book it we can make it back not too long after dawn–”

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

“ _Ignis?_ ”

 

The alarmed tone of Noct’s voice told Ignis that his friend had spotted his finger movements. To the others, it might not seem like much, but Noct _knew_.

 

Noct swore, hesitating only the briefest second before he warped over to the nearby sale stand by the start of the pier. Gladio gave him an odd glance but said nothing as Noct grabbed a copy of the prior day’s paper and then warped back, breathlessly running the last few steps before he thrust the paper into Ignis’ hands. “Read.”

 

Ignis blinked a few times before focusing on the small print. Good. Yes, this was good. Reading aloud was one of the best grounding points they’d found. “ _House Fleuret Goes High Fashion: Lady Lunafreya’s Wedding Dress–_ Noct…” Bloody salt in an open wound this was…

 

Noct held up a hand. “Don’t. If it helps, keep going.”

 

Ignis lowered the paper. “I am in control for the moment.”

 

“Don’t bullshit me, Ignis – I’ve seen this too many times. You’re holding on by a thread.” Noct wasn’t being cruel, just honest. He didn’t back down when he thought Ignis was having trouble. Probably for the best.

 

The Prince’s gaze softened after a moment. “Do I need to drive?”

 

Did he? Ignis honestly didn’t know if he was up to the task. “I…”

 

“Ignis. It’s gonna rain soon. I know you’d be fine if we were out in the open, but we’re gonna be in the car. Do I. Need to drive?”

 

Ignis lowered his gaze, wordlessly reaching into his pocket to pull out the keys and give them over. The keys dropped into Noct’s hand like a stone through water, dragging what felt like a piece of his control – a piece of his _life_ – down with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, peoples, but I’m going to be out of town next weekend, so there will not be an update then! :(


	3. The Fall (2)

Never before had Ignis wished for Prompto’s idle banter so much. Or perhaps the blond’s inane habit of constantly switching the radio channels.

 

Anything. Any noise except the patter of rain hitting the windshield.

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

 

Ignis kept his eyes on the back of the seat in front of him, tapping his fingers along his bicep since his arms were crossed and trying to ignore Gladio’s probing glances. Sometimes it was downright inconvenient that the Shield was doing his job. Gladio had voiced his concern about Noct driving given his emotional state, but even after Ignis had managed to convince Gladio that Noct was fit to drive, the older man kept sneaking looks at him, likely trying to figure out why Ignis had forfeited control of the wheel in the first place.

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

Anything Gladio thought he was seeing could be written off as mere effects of the recent news.

 

“I hope… everyone else is okay,” Prompto said softly. The _everyone except your fathers, who are probably dead_ went unsaid.

 

“Yeah…” Noct sounded like he wanted to make a snippier comment, but he managed to restrain himself.

 

The car lapsed back into silence. A sunless, rainy silence. How appropriate. And stifling.

 

_Index, index… middle, ring, pinky._

“Gladio.” Noct’s voice was loud in the small space, almost making Ignis flinch. “You got a book on you that’s good?”

 

Gladio frowned. “Yeah, why?”

 

Noct reached back and hit the light that was for the back seats. “Give it to Ignis, would you? He’s good at narrating.”

 

Gladio stared at him. “Seriously?”

 

“You want to keep sitting like this for another hour?”

 

Gladio reached beneath Prompto’s seat, pulling out a worn paperback book. He seemed almost reluctant to hand it over to Ignis. “Just… don’t bend the cover. That’s one of Iris’ favorites that she lent me for the trip – she’d kill me if it came back worse for wear.”

 

Ignis swallowed as he accepted the book. He appreciated Noct giving him something to ground him, but he hoped this wouldn’t be too painful for Gladio with Iris’ status still unknown.  

 

It took effort, but Ignis was able to steady his voice as he read the beginning of the book. It was definitely something geared more towards a teenaged audience, but an interesting tale nonetheless. Plus, the lack of profanity kept Ignis from having to read anything unseemly aloud.

 

He’d been reading about a half hour and the sun was just rising when Noct interrupted.

 

“Wait, so this book is about a chick who plays video games and gets stuck in one? Why have I not heard of this before?”

 

“Yeah, right?” Prompto agreed.

 

Gladio shrugged. “Well, Iris _just_ lent it to me, and you two don’t read real books anyway.”

 

“I might if they’re about chicks who like video games!” Prompto chirped.

 

Ignis smiled faintly. This had been a good idea–

 

“Shit!” Noctis swerved suddenly, nearly sending them off the road before he regained control and pulled them into a stop.

 

Ignis clutched the door with his free hand. “What was it? A daemon?”

 

“No,” Noctis groused. “Some idiot without their headlights on.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx was awoken unkindly from his restless sleep when his head smacked against the headrest. He groaned, rubbing the spot on his skull as he blinked at their driver. “Pelna, what the hell?”

 

“Sorry,” Pelna muttered. “Some other car actually on the road. Kind of hard to see them.”

 

No surprise there, given that they’d managed to lose both headlights on the way out of the city.

 

“Where are we?” the Princess – who was awkwardly sandwiched so she was sitting half on the seat with Nyx and half on top of the center console – asked somewhat drowsily.

 

“Not sure. It’s still too dark to tell.” Pelna squinted out the windshield. “I think the real question is… where are we headed?”

 

“Good question.” Nyx rubbed his hand over his mouth. They needed to find the Prince, but they’d had to ditch their phones back in Insomnia. Couldn’t risk that they were compromised.

 

“Cauthess.” The Princess’ tone was confident.

 

Pelna glanced at her. “What makes you think Prince Noctis will be there? Wasn’t he heading for Altissia?”

 

She folded her hands in her lap, calmly staring ahead. “I must go to Cauthess.”

 

Pelna gave Nyx a look.

 

Nyx sighed. “Just do what she says.” Last thing they needed was her jumping out of the moving car or something, which he completely believed she’d do. What was jumping out of a car compared to jumping from a crashing ship onto a balcony? “Head for Cauthess.”

 

Pelna sighed too. “You got it, Captain.”

 

Something within Nyx twisted unpleasantly. “Pelna.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don’t call me that.”  

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis took what felt like his thousandth attempt at a calming breath, trying not to make it audible as he shut his door and trailed just behind the others through the rain. He pinched the pressure point of his left hand, his tapping method not proving to be enough of a grounding point at the moment.

 

Ignis was trying not to panic, but he knew from experience that when he got to this point, he was treading on some very, very thin ground. But the rain wasn’t what was truly bothering him. It usually didn’t if he was out in it.

 

One of the first things Ignis had learned after the Tummelt Affair was that the human mind was vastly stranger than many people realized. Some of his… triggers were what one would expect given what happened, but others were not, and some things he expected to bother him didn’t.

 

He found that water didn’t affect him nearly as much if he was out in the open. Straight from the sky, he could manage well. But indoors… the pitter-patter on a roof or anything above him was the best way to send his control out the window. He and Noct had learned that the hard way when Noct had been trying to help him by pulling out an umbrella.

 

Showers didn’t bother him nearly as much as they once had, so long as the water was hot. Music playing was a great help. Just so long as he didn’t focus on the splattering sound around his feet.

 

As for other things that did bother him… where to start? Cracked glass, plastic pitchers, and burnt orange shirts. That last one was the most odd one since a _white dishcloth_ had been used on him _,_ but, again, the mind was strange. He’d been able to track that subconscious link down to a movie Noct and Prompto had watched years back. It had been a horrible film that no one would ever watch twice, but there had been a certain scene in which someone had been waterboarded with a shirt of that color. Evidently, that scene had stuck with him.

 

Even so, Ignis was somewhat thankful for some of the oddness. At least he hadn’t had a complete breakdown. Yet. No… he’d be fine. He could see the sky. If he could see the sky, he wasn’t in a confined space. If he wasn’t in a confined space, he could manage far better. Now that they were out of the car, he would start to get better. He had to. Matters were too dire. If he fell apart now, the others might suffer the consequences.

 

Still. None of those usual or unusual things were the current source of his troubles. No… these he knew were due to Loqi’s escape. The comfort of him never being able to hurt anyone was gone. He was free to torment a hundred Lucians if he wanted.

 

That terrible sneer of his was all too vivid in Ignis’ memories, not faded one bit by the time that had passed. Ignis’ desire to punch that sneer hadn’t faded either. If they ever encountered him again… Well, there wasn’t a prison for him to go to, now was there?

He would not let that monster harm him or anyone he cared about again. _Never._ Again.

 

“There they are. Wanna take ’em out?”

 

Gladio’s voice ripped Ignis from his thoughts, and he followed Noct’s lead as he pressed his back to a wall and glanced around the corner at the Imperial troops there.

 

The mission. He had to keep his mind on their mission.

 

Noct’s gaze flickered to Ignis as he signed one word.

 

_Okay?_

 

There were a lot of questions behind that word, Ignis knew. _Are you okay to fight? Do you need to turn back? How are you doing right now?_

 

Ignis squared his shoulders, took a breath of fresh air, glanced at the sky, and gave him a firm nod.

 

Noct nodded back, his eyes going hard as he summoned his sword to hand – the sword his father had given him. “Oh, yeah. Those scrapheaps are gonna wish they had a treaty to protect them.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis’ panic gave way to a plethora of emotions that fought against each other to get out. Rage at Niflheim, sorrow at the losses that must have occurred, empathy for the pain Noct and Gladio must have been feeling… But all of those emotions had come and gone, leaving him with a strange sort of detachment when they reached their goal.

 

The city… the smoke… the newscast Prompto had put on… Noct yelling at Cor through his phone… it didn’t even feel real enough to bother him at first.

 

It was only Noct’s sharp gasp and turn towards the remains of the city that brought him back to reality. Noct stood silently for several long moments before a hesitant, “Right,” left his mouth. After that he lowered his phone, remaining motionless for a few moments and just looking at the ruins of their home.

 

Ignis shook his head.

 

Focus.

 

Noct had been there for him so much in the last couple years. They leaned on each other when times got trying. This was no different in that regard.

 

And so Ignis stepped up to his friend’s left side. “What did the Marshal… have to say?”

 

It took another few seconds for Noct to find his voice. “Said he’ll be in Hammerhead.”

 

That wasn’t what Ignis meant, and Noct knew it. But the fact that he was avoiding the topic was telling. Still… Gladio stepped up, asking the question that was truly on all of their minds.

 

“And the King?”

 

Ignis was close enough to tell the moisture on Noct’s face wasn’t the rain.

 

So there it was. Aranea had been right. Not that he’d doubted her, but… oh, how he’d wished her sources were wrong.

 

King Regis was dead. Clarus Amicitia was dead as well, then. Ignis’ Uncle… well, he held no hopes. Cor was alive at least, but how many others?

 

Everyone who had died in the last few years… everyone who had sacrificed… had that all been in vain?

 

No. Their fight with the Empire wasn’t over yet. Not even close. So long as Noct was alive, hope remained. He was King now, and he would be a good one, regardless of the circumstances. Nothing the Empire could do would change that. After all these years of watching his friend grow into a man, Noct had Ignis’ full confidence.  

 

A confidence he didn’t have in himself currently. Was is safe for him to stay with them now? Was is safe for him to stay with Noct? It was so bloody hard to focus. He couldn’t keep on like this. Every time he zoned out or hesitated, it was another risk to the others. The ramifications if he couldn’t focus in battle…

 

Noct… King or not, he wouldn’t hesitate to throw himself into danger for any of them. But… the others didn’t carry the same problems as him.

 

And even if he managed to fight fine, what about Noct’s attention on other matters? There was so much he needed to focus on that might be pushed aside if he was worrying about Ignis.

 

Ignis closed his eyes.

 

Was he… worth the risk of keeping around when he was like this?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU'RE ALWAYS WORTH IT HONEY. WE LOVE YOU OKAY.


	4. The Mine

“Cor!” Noct had barely even turned the car off before he was jumping out of the Regalia.

 

Ignis followed closely behind him, eager to be out of the cramped space the Regalia became when the roof was up.

 

Cor stood just outside the garage alongside Cid. “Your Highness.”

 

Hammerhead was hardly a large place, and it didn’t take Ignis long to scan the arena as they drew close to the garage. “Marshal, are you the only one here?”

 

Cor gave a stiff nod. “Most of the refugees are being escorted to Lestallum by Dustin and a few others as we speak. Monica went north and is working on setting up a base with the help of the hunters. I’ll be joining her shortly.”

 

Well, that was Monica and Dustin confirmed alive, then. But what of everyone else?

 

“So, who’s alive?” Gladio’s tone was composed, but his body language was definitely stiffer than normal. It wasn’t difficult to realize why.

 

“Iris is well – she’s with Dustin. As for other family members…” Cor shook his head, taking a moment to make eye contact with Ignis and Prompto.

 

Ignis swallowed the thick ache in his throat. He hadn’t held much hope for his small, dedicated family, but hearing confirmation was… Six, it still hurt.

 

“What… um…” Prompto hesitated, as if not wanting to know the answer to his question. “What about Nyx? Pelna?”

 

Cor paused. “I believe they both remained loyal, but I’ve heard nothing about or from either of them.”

 

Prompto’s shoulders slumped.

 

“What do you mean _remained loyal?_ ” Noct narrowed his eyes.

 

Ignis was curious about that as well.

 

Cor’s jaw muscle was tense. “Some of the Glaive helped lead the attack.”

 

A short silence fell, and Ignis felt his own rage rising in time with that in Noct’s eyes.

 

Gladio was the first to find his words. “Son of a _bitch!_ The Niffs had _more_ agents in the Glaive?”

 

Ignis wanted to bloody stab something. Every time he had looked back on the Tummelt Affair, he’d at least had the comfort that they’d rid Lucis of two traitors that could have brought down Insomnia, but now that comfort was gone. He and Noct had suffered through that ordeal for _nothing._

 

At least… at least the two Glaive they were all closest to had been truly dedicated. Prompto had grown the closest to them over the years, but Ignis had seen them often. He _knew_ them.

 

Nyx was at every council meeting precisely on time, yet looked bored out of his skull for every minute of them. He never liked being addressed by his rank, requesting that others use only his surname if they had to be formal – something that never seemed to stick with anyone but Prompto, Noct, and a couple of select Glaives, who generally called him by his first name.

 

Pelna… well, Ignis had _heard_ more than seen him, but he knew him better all the same. Pelna had joined them on so many multiplayer games… laughing along with them as though he were their ages…

 

To think that their own comrades had caused their deaths…

 

“What’s done is done,” Cor said firmly, his eyes specifically on Noct. “We must focus on what lies ahead.”

 

Noct’s fists were clenched, but he was holding back the storm of emotions Ignis could tell was brewing. “I take it you have a plan?”

 

Cor nodded. “There’s much for you to do, the first part of it lying south. Come – we’ll tie up the first matter and then meet Monica.”

 

“And what is this first matter?” Ignis questioned.

* * *

 

 

When Cor had told them there was something they needed to do before they met up with Monica, Gladio had assumed it would be quick. It was not.

 

After further conversion with Cor and Cid, the five of them had piled into the car. The _five_ of them. They were able to put the hood down since the rain had stopped, but Gladio had still never felt so claustrophobic in his life. Sharing the back seat with Noct and Prompto was even less comfortable than it looked, but at least Ignis was driving again. Gladio wasn’t sure if another couple more inches of leg was even possible to fit with them at the moment.

 

Gladio kept his arms crossed as he frowned at the back of Ignis’ head, trying to figure out why Noct had been driving in the first place. Ignis was way better about controlling his emotions, and he’d driven them to Galdin Quay, so why had he and Noct agreed to let Noct drive them to Insomnia?

 

The two of them were acting odd. Granted, with the news they’d just received, that was to be expected, but this seemed like it was more than that. They weren’t acting like Gladio would expect them to given their situation. Ignis was rarely chatty, but seemed oddly silent and almost… _twitchy_ the last few hours. Gladio might have chalked that up to Loqi’s escape, but then there was Noct. Noct acted downright apathetic about things at times, but when he was emotional he burst like a cracked dam. He wasn’t being either of those currently. He was calm, but not in an under-control way. No, it was more of a driven calm with an underlining streak of rage. Which… might have seemed normal, but that wasn’t _Noct._ That wasn’t how he was. He should have been yelling at something, or acting snippy and making aggressive comments. He didn’t _do_ silent rage. Something very specific was bothering him, and he was devoting nearly every second of his free time to thinking about it.

 

…That could be bad. There were a lot of things that needed Noct’s attention right now. He couldn’t afford to be distracted like that…

 

“Marshal, have I missed a turn by any chance?”

 

Via the rear-view mirror, Gladio could see the faint lines of a frown on Ignis’ forehead.

 

“No.” Cor’s tone left no room for argument. “This is the right way. Just keep going.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Huh. There was the Ignis Gladio knew, calmly driving with one hand, his eyes glued to the road. Not that fidgeting and tapping and lost-in-thought gaze he’d had earlier.

 

Gladio’s scowl deepened. He hated being out of the loop. He got it – he really did. It was no secret that Ignis and Noct had grown extremely close the last few years on top of knowing each other their entire lives. Gladio expected them to have things they only told each other, but in this situation? Gladio really would have appreciated a little bit of sharing.

 

What was their deal?

 

And speaking of sharing, where the hell was Cor taking them?

* * *

 

 

A mine. They’d now spent several hours going deeper and deeper into depths of a very large mine–

 

“Watch out!” Ignis dived, tackling Prompto out of the way of yet another mine cart that sped towards them. Noct was behind them, but he had plenty of advanced warning to warp out of the way.

 

Prompto groaned dramatically as he climbed back to his feet. “Thanks, Iggy…”

 

“Of course.” Ignis dusted off his gloved palms. As anxious as he was about the state of the world above, he was selfishly thankful for this detour. Daemons and the dark, he was capable of dealing with. Daemons he could physically fight were much preferable to the ones in his head.

 

Noctis walked back from where he’d warped away, looking irritated as he scowled in the direction from which the mine cart had come. “Cor, not that going deeper into this dusty old mine filled with daemons that like to cackle and throw things at us isn’t a riveting way to spend the day, but you wanna tell us what we’re here for?”

 

As if to prove Noct’s point, an imp cackled from the darkness to Cor’s left, and he quickly sliced it in two.

 

He sheathed his sword again, but kept his grip on it. “The power of kings, passed from the old to the new through the bonding of souls.”

 

Cor’s voice echoed back to them off the cave walls, and Ignis could see Noct frowning deeply. He knew that face. He doubted Noct even knew he was making it, but it was the same he always made when people’s talking was too low for him to fully make out.

 

Instantly, Ignis jogged to his side, tapping him on the shoulder and relaying via sign language what Cor had just said.

 

Cor continued. “One such soul lies in these mines. To claim your forebearers’ power is your birthright and duty as King.”

 

Noctis remained silent for a few moments, then lowly muttered, “My duty as King of what?”

 

Ignis felt like he’d swallowed a stone. This… No… Noct couldn’t lose hope…

 

Cor stopped suddenly, turning to face Noct with a dead-serious expression. “Now is not the time to question your calling.”

 

Noct squared his shoulders. “I’m not. As King, I know I have a duty to the people.” His gaze drifted away from Cor, his hands tightening into fists. “Yet my father chose to protect only one prince. Was that _his_ calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?”

 

They’d stopped. All of them. Somewhere in the middle of Noct’s harsh, pained questions, they had stopped walking.

 

Cor took a step closer to Noctis, his voice now clear and no longer needing to be relayed. “The King entrusted the role of protector to you.”

 

“Entrusted it to me?” Noct’s voice rose. “Then why didn’t he tell _me_ that? _Why did he stand there smiling as I left?_ ” A sword appeared in his hand, and a moment later it was buried into the wall. “ _Why–_ ” His voice crackled, cutting him off, and his entire posture slumped, eyes squeezing shut as he fell back into a whisper. “Why did he lie to me?”

 

Ignis longed to do something to ease his distress, but what could he possibly say at this point?

 

Cor stepped closer again, unblinking. “That day, he didn’t want you to remember him as the King. In what time you had left, he wanted to be your father.”

 

Ignis was just close enough to spot the moisture trailing down Noct’s cheeks.

 

But Cor wasn’t finished there. “He always had faith in you, that when the time came, you would ascend for the sake of your people.”

 

Noctis took a shaky breath. “Guess he left me no choice. I better not let him down…” He surged forwards, brushing past Cor and holding his head up high once more. “So, where is this thing?”

 

“Not far. Here – you’ll need this.” Cor tossed something to Noct, who looked back just in time to catch it.

 

Noct squinted at it. “A key? What for?”

 

“You’ll see soon enough.”

 

* * *

 

 

The bridge that lay ahead of them made Ignis wary. It was narrow, but just wide enough for the cart track that ran across it. If one of those blasted imps managed to send another cart at them while they were crossing…

 

Well, at least the bridge had no incline. That lessened the chances of the imps. But it was harder to see… The mix of fans and some low lighting from the surface was creating a strobe light effect. Visibility was rather poor.

 

Noct held up a hand. “Wait. Let me cross first – I can warp out of the way if I need to.”

 

No one argued, though Ignis could see Gladio tense out of the corner of his eye. Gladio had been very protective since they’d left Insomnia, but especially today. Not that Ignis could blame him. Even Prompto looked hesitant to let Noct go alone–

 

A cart came barreling towards Noct, and he threw his sword in the air, warping out of the way just in time. The rest of them quickly stepped to the side before it was able to reach them.

 

“That is so annoying,” Prompto muttered.

 

“Everyone good?” Noct called, standing up from the crouch he’d landed in.

 

Ignis made a cursory check of everyone but found no injuries. “All fine here.” He squinted through the strobing lights. Was that a trick of the lights or…

 

_Movement._

 

There was a daemon behind Noct, and he didn’t know. _He couldn’t hear it._

 

“Your Majesty!”

 

“Noct, watch out!”

 

Gladio and the Marshal were charging forwards before Ignis had managed to get a word out, and Ignis and Prompto weren’t far behind them.

 

Noct was already spinning around, his sword flashing back to hand.

 

No, no, no, he’d be too late–

 

Noct’s entire form lurched as the daemon’s sword pierced his torso like butter, sticking out of his back as the daemon hoisted him into the air. His hand fell limp at his side, weapon vanishing as his own blood splattered onto his shoes.

 

“ _Noct!_ ”

 

They were still too far away to help when Noct was cast aside, off the bridge and into the darkness below.

 

Absently, Ignis noticed that the Marshal had already cleaved the daemon in two, but that wasn’t his primary concern at the moment. Noct wasn’t dead yet – Ignis’ daggers had just fallen back into the Armiger, so that was still active – but he might be soon.

 

“Noct? Noct! Can you hear us?” Gladio bellowed. “Son of a bitch!”

 

“We have to get to him!” Prompto borderline shrieked.

 

If the fall had rendered Noct unconscious… They had minutes at most.

 

“This way!” Cor ordered, sprinting across the rest of the bridge.

 

Ignis somehow managed to command his feet to move in the same direction.

 

_Noct… Be safe. We’re coming._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. Well, I hate to do this to you guys AGAIN and so soon, but I’ve got church camp next week and won’t be able to update. Sad. I should be back to the regular schedule afterwards.


	5. The Mine (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* I'm back!

  
 

_Oh, Six._

 

Noctis dragged in a ragged breath, gritting his teeth to keep from whimpering.

 

_Six, it hurt._

 

His head was throbbing, the area behind his eyes nearly blinding him with the white-hot pressure building there, and there was nothing but pain in the front. Absently, he noticed that his shoulder was probably broken or dislocated, but that was the least of his problems.

 

Even with his face half buried in the ground, he could see the movement around him.

 

Imps.

 

There had been times when Ignis had called him a stubborn person. Well, this time he refused. No. He was not going to die in the drudges of an abandoned mine now that it was finally time for him to step up.

 

He closed his eyes, focusing what little strength he had on accessing the Armiger.

 

The imps’ chattering seemed to grow louder as his magic tingled just on the edges of his fingertips.

 

Just… a little… further…

 

_There._

 

The bottle solidified in his hand, and Noctis was sure it was willpower alone that gave him the strength to crush it.

 

Instantly, relief flooded across his entire form. He spat out a mouthful of blood, shoving to his feet–

 

“ _Oomph._ ” Noctis found himself back with his face in the dirt as his left arm sent another sharp wave of pain through him and it gave out.

 

Great. He’d just healed his bone in the wrong way. Awesome.

 

He rolled away from an imp that had been about to pounce on him and managed to get his legs beneath him this time before he called his sword to hand.

 

Okay. He was alone, could only use one arm – what was it about that arm? First getting shot there, and now this? – and he had no idea what direction to go.

 

Well, he was alive, and he could picture Loqi’s face on every daemon he killed, so at least there was that.

 

He just hoped the others were okay. If Ignis had any problems while he was gone– no. He’d been fine in this place. Nothing to bother him here.

 

The others were the ones he needed to worry about. Gladio had been almost frantically protective since this morning. Not that Noctis blamed him, but it was already getting old.

 

_Focus._

 

An imp hopped at him, claws outstretched.

 

“Not today, asshat!” Noct speared the ugly thing with his sword and then kicked it off the blade.

 

Not today. Not tomorrow. Not any time soon. He had too many people depending on him for that.

 

* * *

 

 

“He was here,” Cor muttered, looking over the area of daemon remnants.

 

“At least we know he’s alive and kicking,” Prompto said hopefully, looking around.

 

Ignis squinted at the dirt. There were various tracks and signs of a fight, but there was only one set of human boots. “He went this way.” He was moving before he even heard the others’ reactions. They hadn’t the time to waste any. Noct was very likely still injured. Even so… Ignis was proud of him, in a way. For Noct to be lasting this long and be this resourceful given his circumstances… he’d learned well. He was strong and resilient. And he was most certainly _not_ going to die.

 

“Ignis!” Gladio caught up to him. “Hey, why don’t you let me take the lead on this?”

 

Ignis nodded. “Of course.” Gladio’s expertise on tracking was far superior to his own. Best he head the search.

 

Cor and Prompto caught up as well, Cor joining Gladio at the front as Prompto slid in to walk by Ignis.

 

“Should we maybe try calling him?” Prompto whispered, keeping his gun ready.

 

“No.” Ignis took to scanning the direction Prompto wasn’t facing. “The noise would only attract more daemons, and it’s unlikely he’d hear us anyway.”

 

“…Right.” He sighed. “He really needs to get a hearing aid or something.”

 

Ignis scoffed. “The King tried to get him to use one on many occasions. Noct always refused. Said it wasn’t bad enough for that.”

 

Prompto snorted. “It seems kind of bad…”

 

Ignis hummed softly in acknowledgment. “He’s stubborn, yes, but he never had this much trouble in Insomnia. The environments as of late have been… less controlled than what he’d grown used to.”

 

Environment. Circumstance. Weren’t those factors for everything? It was so much harder to deal with everything in unfamiliar territory.

 

The typical sounds an imp made reached his ears, and Ignis summoned and flicked a dagger at it the same time Prompto fired a bullet. Both met the daemon’s head and ended its life.

 

Silence fell for a moment again, and then shrieking and scampering noises began again, only in the distance. There was a fight going on elsewhere.

 

“This way!” Cor, being the closest in that direction, took off, and the rest of them were right behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis took deep breaths, trying to focus as his gaze wildly flickered around the area. There were just too many enemies. Running had been the only option, but now…

 

Noctis swore. Sets of old spiraling stairs he could handle. A ladder with the condition his shoulder was in? Not so much.

 

He cast a glance over his shoulder. The daemons were closing in. He’d have to chance heading into the dark area to his left. He couldn’t see if it was a dead end, but he’d have to risk it.

 

His calves burned in protest as he ran, but he tried to ignore them.

 

A narrow passageway lay ahead, big enough for him, but it would have been a pretty tight squeeze for Gladio or Cor. It wasn’t exactly welcoming, but he didn’t have much of a choice at the moment.

 

He grit his teeth to keep from yelping as he shimmied though – the forced angle his shoulder was flattened to was not kind on the improperly healed limb. He nearly fell over when he cleared the crack, but his stumbling feet managed to stay beneath him.

 

The imps would have no problems following him here. He had to keep moving.

 

The hallway he’d entered was less of a hallway and more of just a cave, looking untouched compared to where he was before with all the mining equipment. The only light was the one he had on him.

 

Noctis groaned as his foot suddenly left cold and wet. There were pools of water to trudge through. Great.

 

But trudge he did, even after his moist sock crawled up underneath his heel.

 

Ugh. He hated that feeling.  

Fortunately, the path inclined, taking it out of the water and back to solid dirt.

 

What was this place? The miners clearly hadn’t been using it, so why was it here?

 

…Other than to lead to an elaborate stone door. Okay, then.

 

Noctis’ palms hit the cold rock, willing it to move. “Come on…” He could still hear the daemons behind him. If he couldn’t get this unlocked, then–

 

Unlocked. Key.

 

Noctis scrambled for the key Cor had given him, fumbling with it as he drew it out of his pocket and shoved it into the lock. It fit.

 

Noctis twisted and then yanked the key back, retuning it to his pocket before he tried to pry the parting doors open faster than they were already moving. As soon as there was enough room, he bolted through.

* * *

 

 

“Through here?” Prompto frowned at the thin passageway.

 

Ignis nudged him forwards. “Best you go first – you’re smallest.”

 

Prompto bobbed his head eagerly, squeezing through the gap enthusiastically. Ignis moved to go in next. The two of them were able to clear the passage with little difficulty, but Ignis suspected it would be more difficult for their companions.

 

Still, the two of them couldn’t wait. There were sounds of more daemons up ahead. The others would have to catch up when they could.

 

Ignis didn’t even have to say any of this to Prompto. Prompto already had his gun in hand as he sprinted further into the darkness.

 

Weapon fire… Ignis could hear it, but it wasn’t from a gun.

 

Ignis quickened his pace, daggers flying as soon as he spotted the daemons. “Noct! Noct, are you there?”

 

“Noct!” Prompto yelled, the pitch of his voice significantly higher than the other noise around them.

 

“ _Prompto?_ ”

 

Oh, thank the Astrals.

 

Ignis flipped away from an imp that tried to jump at him. He summoned his lance, whipping it around and ending the monster’s life. Noct’s voice had come from up ahead, past the craved stone archway that lay before them.

 

“ _Noct!_ ”

 

“ _Iggy? I’m here!_ ”

 

There was more weapon firing, and two imps fell over dead. And then there was the glint of a sword out of the corner of Ignis’ eye, and several more followed suit.

 

Ah. So the Marshal and Gladio had caught up. Good.

 

Seeing that their “reinforcements” had the daemons handled, Ignis dodged around the creatures’ attacks and headed for where he’d heard Noct.

 

There!

 

He was propped up in a seated position against – if Ignis wasn’t mistaken – one of the Royal Tomb’s centerpiece, firing off bolts from a crossbow that Ignis was positive they hadn’t had before. A grimace seemed to be stuck on his face.

 

Ignis slid on his knees to Noct’s side, keeping his daggers ready should a daemon get too close. “Noct, are you all right?”

 

Noct shrugged one shoulder. “Been better.”

 

Ignis chuckled. “No doubt.”

 

Noct shot another bolt. “You okay?”

 

Ignis gave him a firm nod, sending another dagger flying. “No problems here.” Other than nearly having a heart attack… But truly? Noct had been impaled, and he was still worried about _him?_

 

“Cool,” Noct grumbled. “Can we get the hell out of here, then?”

 

The first step of Noct’s wish was granted as the Marshal’s sword sang, taking out the last of the imps.

 

“Noct!” Gladio called as the rest of them rushed into the room.

 

Noct slouched. “Hey. So… who wants to re-break my shoulder so I can get it healed properly?”

 

Gladio swore, crouching down to get a better look at Noct’s shoulder. “Yeah, this doesn’t look too great. _You_ don’t look too great.”

 

Noct snorted. “I don’t _feel_ too great.”

 

“Hardly surprising.” Cor frowned at the crossbow that Noct now had propped on his leg. “Even dismissing your injuries from the bridge, the Royal Arms only grant power with sacrifice.”

 

Noct glanced down at the weapon. “Oh.” He released the crossbow, letting it fall into the Armiger. “That’s why I feel worse…”

 

Cor nodded, checking the area behind them as more scurrying noises echoed off the cave wall. “Best not to use any more curatives on you until that arm is properly set. We have what we came for – let’s get out of here.”

 

“I second that!” Prompto said instantly.

 

“Right.” Gladio maneuvered around, slipping one arm under Noct’s arm and setting the other on his back.

 

“Oh, come on,” Noct complained, shifting uncomfortably.

 

“Don’t even.” Gladio didn’t stop, hauling Noct up with him as he stood. “You walking will take us twice as long, and you know it. Take a nap if you need to.”

 

“…Fine.” Noct sounded like he wanted to put up more of a fight, but he was clearly downright exhausted – enough so that he actually dropped his head against Gladio’s shoulder as soon as they were properly balanced.

 

Cor didn’t seem to have anything to say about the situation. He just ordered Prompto to walk with him up front, ready to eliminate any threat that might appear. Ignis silently filled in the spot at the rear, watching Gladio’s back. Those daemons had a nasty habit of spawning wherever they wanted, but they would be prepared if that happened now.

 

Ignis would shed no tears over exiting this place. It was well past time they left and moved on.

 

But… moved on to what, exactly? What was their true next step?

 

…Well, other than breaking Noct’s arm again, that was. That had to come first.

 


	6. The Outsiders

Gladio couldn’t help at least a small wince at the _snap_ that came from the tent, which was immediately followed by Noct’s smothered scream. He had to have been biting something, but that nowhere near canceled out the sound completely.

 

Gladio’s teeth pressed together so hard that the pressure started to ache. He hated this. Noct was hurt – _again_ – and there was nothing he could do. He’d thought he might at least be able to help with breaking the shoulder, but no… Cor had that handled, and Ignis was ready with the medical care, leaving Gladio and Prompto with nothing to do but hover outside and… well, be useless, honestly.

 

Except Prompto was fixing dinner, so Gladio supposed he was the only one really being useless. What the hell…

 

It wasn’t all that long until Cor exited the tent and held the flap open for Ignis as he helped Noct out.

 

“Specs, I’m fine. It’s healed now,” Noct grumbled, looking like he wanted to worm out of the hold Ignis had on him.

 

“Be that as it may, you’d best take it easy for a bit. There’s only so much potions can do.” Ignis helped Noct to one of the chairs that they’d set up around the fire in the center of the haven. “Your bones need time to mend without magic, lest they’re likely to become brittle. And that’s not even taking into account the shock your system must be in from getting impaled.”

 

Noct groaned. “I got it, I got it – take things slow, don’t break anything else.”

 

“And eat your vegetables and get a good night’s sleep.” Ignis moved over to Prompto’s side at the stove.

 

“…I have no complaints about the _second_ part of that.”

 

Ignis hit Noct with a look. “Your vitamin intake is lacking enough normally. Best you not slack off further now that you need them even more.”

 

Cor chuckled lowly, drawing all of them to where he was standing with his arms crossed.

 

“What?” Noct asked with a frown.

 

Cor shook his head, and Gladio could see that his laughter – while genuine – was pained. “Your father. Whenever he had a serious injury that had to be healed by magic, he’d end up with a craving for seafood for a week.”

 

Noct’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? I thought he’d just gotten home and was spoiling me…”

 

“Hey!” Prompto looked up from where he was stirring some sort of soup. “Maybe that’s why you like fishing, Noct!”

 

Huh. It was possible, Gladio guessed.

 

“Maybe…” Noct said thoughtfully.

 

“Well, buddy, I don’t have fish, but dinner’s ready.” Prompto started dishing out bowls of his soup.

 

Gladio took his, poking at it with his spoon, a bit worried. It smelled good enough, at least.

 

Noct dug into his immediately, freezing after he’d chewed his first bite. “Since when the hell can you cook?”

 

Prompto shrugged. “You know those weekends where I stayed over and you slept until noon? Iggy taught me a few things when he came by to fix you meals and stuff.”

 

“Oh.” Noct’s voice was blank. He clearly hadn’t been aware of that at all.

 

Neither had Gladio, to be honest. Another thing he’d missed. Did the list ever end?

 

“So, Marshal,” Gladio said after finishing a bite. “We heading north now?”

 

Cor nodded. “Monica has been busy – the base she’d started with the hunters is operating smoothly for the moment.”

 

“And we’re to find another Royal Arm close to that base?” Ignis settled into his own chair, sprinkling a bit of garlic into his soup.

 

Huh. Yeah, okay, the soup could have used some garlic…

 

“Two, actually.”

 

“Why do I get the feeling the rest of them aren’t going to be that easy?” Gladio eyed the garlic.

 

“Because they won’t,” Cor said flatly. “The tombs are scattered across the land. All are on dangerous ground. There are thirteen known Royal Arms, each enshrined at a Royal Tomb like the one today, though we know the location of only a few.”

 

“…So, what you’re saying is we get these next two, and then we’re on our own?” Noct shifted in his chair, still grimacing at his shoulder.

 

“Not entirely.” Cor grabbed the garlic and tossed it to Gladio. “I’ve had Monica enlist the help of the hunters. They’ll comb the land in search of the lost tombs.”

 

“Cool,” Noct said around another mouthful of soup.

 

“Noct, really?” Ignis sighed.

 

“Lemme alone, I’m tired.”

 

Not surprising. And he _did_ look it.

 

“Healing magic always did _that_ to your father too.” Cor finally picked up a spoon and started eating.

 

Gladio knew Cor well enough that he knew that meant the man had nothing left to say. Business first, everything else after.

 

Noct was the first to turn in for the night, but they all followed not too long after. Gladio found absolutely no trace of sleep to be found, though. Between his thoughts and the extremely uncomfortable, borderline claustrophobia caused by the addition of Cor, Gladio could not get comfortable enough.

 

And… apparently he wasn’t the only one. After what he guessed was about an hour, Prompto wiggled out of his spot and left the tent. Gladio assumed he’d just gone to use the restroom, but then ten minutes later he still hadn’t come back.

 

_Thunk._

 

_Thunk._

 

Gladio frowned. What was that kid up to?

 

He managed to awkwardly maneuver his way to the door of the tent and slip out, following the sound.

 

_Thunk._

 

_Thunk._

_Thunk._

 

Prompto was pretty close to camp. Not far enough that Gladio would need to scold him for running into a dangerous area alone.

 

What Prompto was doing, though… Gladio had to do a double take. Finding Prompto training on his own was about as rare as rocks after the Tummelt Affair, but this wasn’t exactly his area.

 

_Thunk._

 

“Since when the hell do you throw knives?” Gladio asked, probably louder than he should have with the tent as close as it was. Still, this was really unexpected. Prompto wasn’t just throwing knives – he was good at it. Not, like, Iggy good, but clearly good enough he had to have been practicing for a while.

 

Prompto spared him a brief glance, summoning the knife back to hand again. “Nyx and Pelna… they taught me some stuff. I was gonna whip it out and surprise you guys during some battle, like – _wacha! Boom! Yeah, look at me, I throw knives and stuff!_ But… yeah, that doesn’t really seem important now…”

 

_Thunk._

 

“No luck getting in touch with your parents still?” Gladio crossed his arms, for once his life wishing he had on a warm shirt. It was chilly out tonight.

 

Prompto shook his head. “Nah… I don’t really expect to.”

 

Gladio had to wonder if Prompto even really cared that much. He had the biggest heart of anybody Gladio knew, but he and his parents weren’t exactly close.

 

_Thunk._

“That why you’re out throwing knives at trees in the middle of the night?” Gladio had a feeling there was more to it than that.

 

Prompto grunted, summoning the knife back yet again. “Nope. Just thought I’d get some practice in.”

 

“More like some time to think.”

 

Prompto glanced at him questioningly.

 

Gladio snorted. “C’mon, Prompto. I can see those wheels turning a mile a minute. Pretty obvious.”

 

Prompto shrugged. “I’m just… sick of it!” _Thunk._ “Sick of–”

 

“Feeling useless? Out of the loop?”

 

Prompto turned fully towards him at that, frowning. “I mean, yeah…”

 

“Hm. Feel your pain there.” Of course Prompto felt as annoyed by all this as Gladio. How could he not after all the training and effort he’d put into the last few years, only to have events like this happen?

 

“I just– gah!” He yanked on the longest pieces of hair at the base of his neck. “I tried to be ready for all this!”

 

Gladio grunted in acknowledgment. “Well, look at it this way – at least you aren’t the most useless Shield in the history of the Lucian royalty.” Gladio didn’t have any bitterness or self loathing, he just really wished he was doing better at his job. His _job_ that his entire life was devoted to. But even that wasn’t why he was really bringing this up.

 

“What? You?” Prompto scoffed. “Dude, you could take down a tree in one hit. Your stupidly hard workout routine totally worked.”

 

Gladio snorted again. “Prompto, Noct has been impaled, shot, partially deafened, and kidnapped _twice._ ”

 

Prompto blinked. “Um. Well. He’s not dead?”

 

“Yeah, thanks to half a dozen other people who aren’t his Shield.” Good, this was working so far.

 

“Well, yeah, but like circumstances– wait, hey!” Prompto jabbed a finger at him. “Dude, are you just trying to distract me from my own crap?”

 

Dammit. Prompto really wasn’t as blond as he looked. And _acted_ most of the time. Gladio wondered at times just how natural all those smiles really were.

 

Gladio shrugged. “Worked for a few seconds, anyway.” Definitely not as long as he’d been hoping, but he’d take what he could get. “Look, Prompto, neither us have been the most helpful lately, but we can’t dwell on that. We dwell and we just do worse later. Gotta stay focused.” That was good advice. If only he could actually put it into practice himself.

 

Prompto let out a puff of air. “Guess so… Just wish I’d at _least_ stuck with the sign language thing more…”

 

“Hey, you’ve got a decent amount of that learned. I didn’t even really try. Went straight for just training harder after all that.”

 

“Eh. Ish. Still can only get it if it’s pretty slow.” He waved his hand, dismissing the knife back to the Armiger.

 

Gladio nearly shivered at a chilly wind, but managed to turn it into another shrug of sorts. “You know, they pretty much just use that for, like, secret texting. Might ruin their fun if you did know.”

 

Prompto snickered. “Most of the time that’s about it… but I have seen them use it for some important stuff too, like earlier when Cor was talking.” He scratched the back of his neck, hesitating. “Do you… ever feel like they’re keeping stuff from us? Not, like, inside jokes but like legit cutting us out? I mean, yeah, they went through trauma and stuff together and kind of bonded a ton over that, but I dunno… Sometimes it seems like they’re on a different wave link than us, you know? …Nah, that’s dumb. Never mind. Forget I said–”

 

“Prompto.” Gladio cut off his rambling. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” And thank Astrals he wasn’t the only one noticing that. “They’ve definitely had their own thing going for a while.”

 

Prompto looked relieved too. “…I kind of feel like… there’s something they don’t want us to know?”

 

“Yeah… I get that feeling too…” He had for the last couple of years, actually. That was when he’d started noticing how they signed stuff to each other that clearly wasn’t just jokes. The looks on their faces were too serious for it to be that. What could he do about it, though? Nothing. Ignis and Noct had always been private. Pushing usually made them pull away. “But… not like we can force ’em to tell us. Last thing any of us need right now is conflict between us and them.”

 

Prompto bobbed his head, still looking like a kicked puppy. The kid really looked like a wounded animal when he was sad. “Guess so. Maybe they’ll tell us when they’re ready?”

 

That would be nice. That would be real nice. “We can hope.” Gladio wasn’t holding his breath, though. Not when it had already been this long. It really was frustrating. As much as Gladio tried to come up with logical reasons, his mind kept screaming _why don’t they trust us enough to share?_

 

“…We should probably get back to sleep,” Prompto mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets and trudging back towards the tent.

 

Gladio grunted in agreement and followed him. “Yeah, I could do without Ignis lecturing me first thing tomorrow.” Like that was going to happen. Ignis was the lightest sleeper of them all. He’d know.

 

Prompto chuckled, kicking some higher stalks of grass that were in front of him. “You sure it’s not too late already? You know he has a sixth sense for that kind of stuff.”

 

“Eh. Well, Noct was hurt, so maybe he’ll still be fussing over him.” Yeah, that was even more unlikely than the other stuff they were hoping for. Ignis always managed to keep track of all three of them. He was like a bloodhound trained by a hired nutritionist or something.

 

Maybe Noct and Ignis’ secret was that Ignis was really an alien nutritionist with telepathy and precognition. Not that that would surprise anyone.

 


	7. The Arsenal

Ignis suppressed a smile as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. It was a long drive to the outpost where Monica was, and, even though they’d spent the full night at a haven, Ignis was not the least bit surprised that Noct had fallen asleep in the car. He was, however, a tad surprised and amused to find that Noct had managed to _cuddle_ into Gladio’s side in his sleep. Even better was the unmoving grimace on Gladio’s face, but he didn’t make Noct get off him.

 

There was a click and Gladio suddenly shot a glare at Prompto, who lowered his camera with a grin. Gladio rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in them all the same.

 

Ignis chuckled faintly. Even in these dark times, it appeared Prompto was still good at causing some lighthearted fun. Ignis was grateful for that. It was a much-needed relief from the mess that had very drastically overtaken their lives. At least they had the Marshal with them–

 

Ignis nearly swerved. Cor had the slightest upturn of a fond smile on his face too as he observed the backseat.

 

Ignis scowled, looking back to the road. He’d kept his promise to Prompto and followed Cor’s orders about not looking into Prompto’s past, but it still nearly drove him mad at times. The mystery connection between them… what was it? Why was it such a secret?

 

Oh, what did it matter? They had much more pressing concerns at the moment. _Ignis_ had much more pressing concerns at the moment, although he was all right at present.

 

So long as the weather was fair and Loqi stayed under whatever rock he’d crawled under after the attack on Insomnia, Ignis would be fine.

 

Perhaps the prat had even been court marshaled for his failure. The Empire wouldn’t just hand him his position back after years in imprisonment, after all. He was more likely to be interrogated by them to see if he’d given anything up in those years. Or at least… Ignis could hope.

* * *

 

 

The outpost was… was well hidden, Noctis thought. As in, it looked so sad that the Imperials would in no way look at it and assume there was a small Lucian task force there. Heck, if these people weren’t giving him bows and salutes, Noctis wouldn’t have know half of them were from Insomnia. Yikes. There were a few people he vaguely recognized, but… not enough. Not the ones he’d been hoping to see, like Nyx and Pelna. He was pretty sure Prompto was visibly deflating with each person that passed that wasn’t them.

 

Noctis was paying attention to Monica’s briefing, but it was hard not to let his eyes wander in search of more familiar faces.

 

Cor gave a stiff nod at Monica’s last statement, his arms still crossed as they all stood in a circle in the… barn… shack… _thing_ they were standing in. “The tombs aren’t far from here or each other. I’ll see what more I can learn about the Niffs while you obtain those Royal Arms.”

 

“Are these in more caves?” Prompto whined, making a face of pure misery.

 

“Only one of them, but I believe you’ll find the daemons in the area to be far less deadly than the ones we faced before.”

 

Weird how Cor never seemed to get irritated at Prompto… Noctis could remember times when about all he’d done was breathe and Cor gave him The Scowl. It was almost worse than his dad’s version of The Scowl.

 

“Yeah, I’m not down for a repeat of last time…” Noctis muttered. Not that anyone else would be either, but… ow. Getting impaled was an experience he definitely could have lived without.

 

“That’s not happening again.” Gladio’s tone made it sound like he was ready to fight anyone that might disagree with him. Not that anyone would. …Well, at least Noctis hoped no one would. If they did, it would be a little concerning.

 

…Wow, his mind was wandering today. He really needed to not have so many potions in such a short span of time – it made him feel weird.

 

“Good.” Cor brought Noctis back to the conversation again. “Lodging around here appears to be scarce, but there’s a haven just outside you can use for the time being.”

 

“That will be more than sufficient,” Ignis assured.

 

Right. Weapons. Cave. Back by sundown. Sleep.

 

“We better get going, then.”

 

They had a full day ahead.

 

* * *

 

 

Obtaining the first Royal Arm of the day had been a surprisingly pleasant one. It was out in the open – simple task of walking up to the tomb and unlocking the door. The second was in… less favorable conditions, to say the least.

 

“I swear, if one of those imps tries to hit us with another damn mine cart…” Noct grumbled, kicking a piece of scrap metal out of the way.

 

Ignis agreed. While Cor had been right about the daemons not proving as difficult as the ones they faced the prior day, it was still quite irritating to have them running around and closing doors and literally dropping on top of their group. Ignis was sure they’d taken years off Noct’s life via stress already. It was startling enough for the rest of them, but Noct’s hearing was making the daemons’ jump attacks even worse for him. Gladio had taken to hovering unusually close to him, though, so at least Noct was really protected while he was having a heart attack.

 

“Noct,” Gladio said in a voice that let Ignis know there was probably an argument coming. “Look, I know you hate the idea, but I think hearing aids might a good thing to consider.”

 

Noct stopped, turning a flat look on his Shield. “Yeah… sure… I’ll just ask if Cor happens to have one lying around when we get back to the outpost that doesn’t even have running water.”

 

Gladio’s sigh was low, well conveying his irritation. “I meant when we got to a city or something.”

 

“Yeah, sure thing,” Noct said dismissively, turning back to the path ahead of them.

 

“Noct, I’m serious–”

 

“Sorry, did you say something? Can’t hear you.”

 

Gladio growled under his breath, but Ignis dropped a hand onto his shoulder before he could start yelling. “I’ll speak with him about it.”

 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Maybe he’ll actually listen to you.”

 

Something about Gladio’s tone struck him as odd, but Ignis gave him a nod and jogged to catch up with Noct all the same.

 

Noct at least could hear enough to know he was coming. “Don’t…”

 

He had to. “He’s right, you know.”

 

“Ugh, I said don’t!” Noct tugged on the ends of his hair.

 

“ _Noct,_ ” Ignis chided, matching Noct’s pace as they kept walking down the dreary damp corridors. “I know you were fine in Insomnia, but things are different out here. You nearly died yesterday.”

 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Noct deadpanned in the flattest voice imaginable.

 

No matter Noct’s attitude, Ignis was not going to be so easily dismissed. “You would have been fine if you’d had a hearing aid.”

 

“…You don’t know that for sure.”

 

“Yes, I do.” Ignis pinned Noct under one of the many glares he knew got under his skin. “Had you heard it a moment sooner, you would have easily warped out of the way.”

 

Noct fell silent.

 

“Noct…”

 

“Okay! I’ll think about it, all right?” He shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged on.

 

Ignis glanced over his shoulder at Gladio. He was close enough that he’d probably heard most if not all of that.

 

Gladio shrugged, displeasure clear. “It’s a start, I guess.”

 

* * *

 

 

Finishing the cave was definitely much easier than the one the day before. Even without Cor, it was a cakewalk by comparison. Still, it was nice to breathe the fresh air again when they finally returned to the surface.

 

Ignis dusted off the palms of his gloves and adjusted his spectacles. It was going to be dark soon, given how low the sun was getting. “Best we report back to the Marshal soon and set up camp at the haven.”

 

“Yeah,” Noct agreed, yawning. “Camp sounds good.”

 

“I’m cool with camping.” Gladio stretched his arms wide, making Prompto back up to avoid being hit.

 

“Yippee. Camping. Awesome.” Prompto sounded far less thrilled than the rest of them, but it wasn’t as though they had a lot of options.

 

“Hey, at least there will be more room in the tent tonight.” Noctis winced. “I could do with a lot less elbows in my side.”

 

“…Okay, true,” Prompto admitted, pawing at what looked like a spiderweb in his hair.

 

Noct rubbed the center of his chest. “So, this was three out of how many, again?”

 

“I believe the Marshal said thirteen in all.” Ignis squinted at the sinking sun. They needed to hurry if they were to reach the outpost before dark.

 

“Guess you better get used to spiderwebs.” Gladio nudged Prompto.

 

* * *

 

 

If they’d been trying to place their arrive as close to dark as possible, they couldn’t have done better. Ignis suspected that the daemons would have been spawning out of the ground beneath their feet if they’d been even a few minutes later. As things were, though, they safely reached the outpost to find Cor waiting outside for them as he leaned against a wooden post.

 

“You made it. Thought I’d lost another King.”

 

“Just busy building my arsenal,” Noct returned easily, like he wasn’t covered in dirt and spiderwebs that wouldn’t brush off.

 

“Good to hear. I have a task for you in the morning.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Cor nodded. “The Empire’s begun construction of a new base, along the road west to Duscae.”

 

Prompto punched his hand. “We takin’ it out?”

 

Another nod. “If left unchecked, it will cost us access to the west – and all the Royal Tombs that lie beyond. Monica and I will fill you in on the details bright and early tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

 

“Sounds great,” Noct said dryly.

 

“Cool. Sleep first. I’m there.” Prompto started heading for the haven without another word.

 

“Guess we better set up camp.” Gladio followed suit, beginning the climb up the small hill that would have seemed like nothing at any other time but now looked annoyingly exhausting.

 

Yes… a good night’s rest was definitely in order.

 

Noct’s hand caught Ignis’ shoulder before they were far up the hill, making him pause.

 

“Hey… how you holding up?” The worry for him that Noct often hid was showing in full force at the moment.

 

“Good,” Ignis said honestly. “The absence of rain has been rather positive on my subconscious, evidently.”

 

Relief swept over Noct’s face. “Oh, great. I’d thought that… Loqi… you know.”

 

Ignis squeezed his fists tight. Damn that maniac. “His escape has most definitely not helped, but it alone isn’t enough to shatter my mind.”

 

Noct scoffed. “Your mind is made of steel. Just, you know, with holes for water to leak through.”

 

Ignis snorted. Ever poetic. “I’m fine right now, Noct. Truly. I’ll let you know if that changes.” Not that he’d need to. Noct could usually tell.

 

“Good.” Noct offered him a last smile before rubbing a hand over his dirt-crusted face. “Man, I’m exhausted. How early do you think Cor’s version of early is?”

 

“Oh, I’d say we best be up before the sun just to be sure…”

 

Noct glared at him, and Ignis chuckled. Sometimes Noct made teasing him almost too easy.

 

“I’ll wake you up when the time comes.” It was the least he could do. Noct did normally help out with the dishes, after all. That was worth a human wakeup call.

 

“Cool. Thanks.”

 

“In the mood for anything particular for dinner tonight?” They didn’t have a lot of choices, but Ignis was certain there were at least a few meals he could make that would please everyone.

 

“Anything without vegetables.”

 

Ignis refrained from rolling his eyes. Barely. “And you wonder why you’re always so lacking in energy.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOOD FUN TIMES HERE. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT NOOOOTHING.


	8. The Base

The base that the Marshal had mentioned looked like it would be a much easier task than taking down an _average_ Empire base. As a new base, it was very small at the moment. Honestly, after the mines, it looked rather tame, but that didn’t mean Ignis was going to underestimate it, even with the Marshal back with them. Still, with a proper plan it would hopefully go smoothly, and the Marshal and Monica had already comprised one of those yesterday in their absence.

 

“From here we will split into two groups. Prince Noctis, please join the Marshal up ahead.” Monica turned her attention to everyone else. “The rest of you will assist me in the diversionary effort.”

 

Noct dropped his crossed arms, glancing at them too. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”

 

Ignis held his tongue. He wasn’t going to go against the Marshal’s plan, but he wasn’t pleased with this split up, particularly so soon after Noct had been so heavily injured. Though… he supposed he understood the Marshal wanting to see Noct’s strength on its own.

 

Ignis berated himself mentally. Noct was going to be with the Marshal – he’d be fine. Ignis really had to stop being so paranoid. That paranoia was only making things worse by raising his tension levels and fogging his mind with doubt.

 

“You go give ’em hell. We’ll do the same on our end,” Gladio said as his farewell.

 

“Best of luck,” Ignis added.

 

Noct tossed them a grin before heading off.

 

And so the rest of them fell back, heading for the base’s front door.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis knew he was being watched. Tested. He wasn’t stupid, and it was easy to figure it out. If Cor had picked a partner for their strengths concerning stealth, he would have picked Ignis or Monica. No, this was Cor seeing how he handled himself without the others around.

 

Noctis narrowed his eyes, breathing steadily as he focused on the mission. He _had_ to do well here. He needed to prove to Cor that what happened in the mines was just a fluke. He and the guys were fine – totally capable of handing what came their way.

 

He warped, nailing the MT ahead in the back of the skull with his sword. Another one down.

 

He could hear fighting elsewhere, but he and Cor hadn’t set off any alarms, so it must have been Monica and the guys doing their part. Cool. Everything good so far.

 

“Good work,” Cor said as he caught up with him.

 

“Thanks.” Noctis tried not to let pride blossom in his chest. This wasn’t over yet.

 

Spotting a higher vantage point, he warped again, landing softly on a catwalk. Not too many guards around since everyone was rushing to the front. Just as planned.

 

“ _…the hell is this madness? This base was supposed to be secured!_ ”

 

Noctis’ stomach dropped and his breath left him all at once.

 

“ _Your time in the Lucians’ hands has made you paranoid, Tummelt. Security will handle the problem, whatever it may be._ ”

 

…Shit. Shit, shit, shit. It was really him.

 

Why? Of all the places in the world for him to be, why here?

 

…Astrals, Ignis. If he ran into Loqi now…

 

Nope. Screw that. Ignis didn’t need that.

 

Noctis took a breath. That weasel had been rotting in a cell for years while Noctis had grown stronger. He wasn’t the kid he’d been before. He could handle this. He could handle this here and now, and then he and Ignis would never have to worry about it again.

 

Thunk.

 

Noctis jumped as a pebble hit his back, and he spun around to find Cor staring at him from a distance with a raised eyebrow.

 

Dammit. The mission. He had to focus on the mission. Ignis would tell him to focus on the mission, no matter their personal issues.

 

Noctis swore inwardly, warping back to Cor. Loqi wasn’t even in sight – he couldn’t waste time chasing after him.

 

“What’s wrong?” Cor had his question out the moment Noctis landed next to him.

 

“ _Loqi._ ” Noctis’ nails dug into his palm on his ungloved hand. “He’s here.”

 

Noctis had never seen Cor hesitate before, but there was a definite pause in his step before he kept moving. “Good. He can be dealt with.”

 

…Okay, then. Sometimes Noct forgot that everyone had a reason to hate Loqi, not just him and Ignis. “Sounds like a plan.” That asshole had always been good at hiding, but he couldn’t run forever. Just like last time, they’d catch up with him eventually. Only this time, Loqi wouldn’t have the protection of a hostage.

 

* * *

 

 

Where the hell was the little weasel?

 

Noct dropped down to the ground near the main gate.

 

He and Cor had killed everything they’d come across, but they had yet to find that bastard since Noctis had heard him.

 

Cor rolled as he dropped down from the ledge as well, then made his way over to the gate and jabbed at the control panel. Noctis couldn’t say he was really surprised when the base doors opened to reveal the guys standing over, like, a couple dozen Imperial bodies.

 

“Ignis!” Noctis zeroed in on him and sprinted.

 

Ignis’ brow pulled in concern, and he jogged to meet him halfway. “Noct? What’s wrong–”

 

“He’s here, Iggy.” Oh, Astrals, Noctis hated having to tell Ignis, but he had to know. “Loqi is _here_.”

 

To someone else, Ignis might have seemed to be taking the news well, but Noctis wasn’t someone else. He could see with absolutely clarity the minute shift in Ignis’ expression – the slight change of color in his cheeks.

 

“What?” Prompto squawked.

 

“That son of a bitch is here?” Gladio swore, his tone vicious. “I am gonna shove my sword so far down his throat he’s gonna _wish_ he died when Prompto shot him.”

 

Noctis would so let him. Noctis wouldn’t even care if he or Ignis didn’t get to do the job personally, he just wanted Loqi gone.

 

“Focus, all of you!” Cor snapped, and Noctis spun around to find him with his hand on his sword.

 

_Chunk._

_Chunk._

 

…Annnnd that was a huge machine closing in on them.

 

Noctis summoned his weapon to hand, stepping between the machine and Ignis. Was it…?

 

The machine stopped, its two thin but strong legs planted firmly in place as the cockpit slid open.

 

Noctis’ teeth ground together. If only he were a little closer – he could have warped in and ended the miserable bastard’s life. Too far…

 

“Stay right where you are!” Loqi’s voice echoed, enhanced by a speaker. He was standing tall and proud, gleaming in his Imperial armor like he hadn’t spent the last years of his life in a cell. “Well, well… it’s been a long time, Prince. Oh, and Scientia’s here as well! So, you both survived the Citadel… Just as well – killing you now will earn me back any credibility I might have lost during my imprisonment!”

 

With that, he smirked at them and stepped back and closed the cockpit once more, his war machine rearing back to life.

 

“Are you two ready for this?” Cor asked.

 

Ignis gave a stiff nod, his daggers flashing to hand.

 

“More than ready,” Noctis growled. He’d _been_ ready.

 

Cor and Gladio rushed in first, taking on both the legs of the machine at once. The hairs on the back of Noctis’ neck stood on end, and he warped at the same time Ignis zipped forwards with lightling crackling around his daggers.

 

Lightning. Right.

 

Noctis hurled one of his own daggers high, warping above the machine. He twisted in midair, one of his magical flasks appearing in hand. With a grin, he spiked the flask onto the machine’s head, landing for a brief moment on its arm.

 

The shock of the blast made the machine stagger, and Noctis wobbled on the arm, managing to keep his balance enough to summon his sword and drive it into the metal.

 

Below, Gladio and Cor took full advantage of the stagger and kept hacking away at the weaker spots on the leg while Prompto fired his gun on the run, circling around to Loqi’s blindside.

 

“Noct!”

 

Recognizing Ignis’ tone as one of warning, Noct warped back to the ground. Heat licked at his back, and he landed just in time to see fire crashing into the machine at multiple points.

 

Nice. Ignis had always had a way with magic that the rest of them didn’t, but he rarely got to unleash that gift to its full potential in training or against the weaker monsters they’d faced lately. Looked like he was done holding back. Looked like everyone was done holding back when it came to Loqi – his machine wasn’t going to last long.

 

And it didn’t.

 

Maybe it was Cor, maybe it was their rage, or maybe it was just combined effort, but it barely took them any time to take down the machine’s left leg. That and the lightning spell from before were apparently all Ignis needed.

 

With an eerie look of stoicism, Ignis summoned his lance and launched himself into the air. His strike landed exactly where it needed to on the head, causing sparks to fly. Even when the machine swayed, Ignis’ feet stayed planted, and he drove the lance even further into its target.

 

Gladio whipped his sword around in a wide arc, breaking through the metal of the machine’s other ankle and making that leg cave in too.

 

Ignis fell, letting his momentum carry him into a flip before he landed in a crouch.

 

The machine collapsed completely, broken joints screeching and clattering at they hit the pavement. And then the rumbling echoed out. The occasional spark became the only sound past Noctis’ own breathing that he could hear.

 

Down. Loqi was down, but Noctis was pretty sure he was still alive, and that was something Noctis wanted to fix.

 

Gladio plowed over to the machine, beating Noctis to the cockpit and driving his sword into the crack. He pried the opening apart, using his sword as leverage until the door popped off, landing a few feet away with a loud _clank_.

 

Cor moved to back Gladio up, signaling for Noctis to stay put–

 

“Stay _back!_ ”

 

Noctis bent his knees, ready to spring as Gladio actually compiled with Loqi’s demand.

 

Cor froze too.

 

That… couldn’t be good.

 

Gladio scowled as his sword disappeared and he took a step back with his hands up. “This is a little counter productive, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Ignis stepped between Noctis and everyone else, but Noctis could still see how Loqi followed Gladio with a _grenade_ in hand, his hand ready to twitch and send them all up in flames.

 

If it were only the grenade, Gladio and Cor probably could have gotten of out of range, but with that stupid machine… If that grenade set off the engine, the blast radius would be a hell of a lot bigger.

 

Loqi glared death at all of them, he jaw set to one side “If you get your hands on me, you’ll kill me – I might as well take you with me.”

 

Dammit. Prison had not done Loqi well. He was more ruthless than ever. Noctis had absolutely no doubt that Loqi would do it. That look in Loqi’s eye… He wasn’t gonna let himself get taken again.

 

“ _Hey!_ ”

 

Noctis blinked, locking onto Prompto’s position still behind the mech suit. He had his gun trained on Loqi’s head.

 

“Drop it, douche bag!”

 

Loqi’s face went from steely resolve to confusion in a moment.

 

“I mean it!” Prompto’s hands were completely steady. “I can pull this trigger a helluva lot faster than you can set that thing off!”

 

Loqi outright scoffed. “A child such as you? I’m no machine or creature of the wild – do you really think you can pull that trigger?”

 

Noctis couldn’t help it. He barked out a laugh, earning him a brief, odd look from Loqi.

 

“What?” Loqi snapped.

 

“Irony, thy name is Loqi,” Ignis said in a polished tone that was calmer than Noctis knew he had to be feeling. The pure hatred in Ignis’ gaze could have melted a small icecap.

 

Loqi looked further confused, but still equally ready to blow them all up.

 

“Buddy… I was seventeen last time I shot you – this time I won’t just put you in a medical ward.”

 

Damn. Prompto was sounding hardcore. Good for him.

 

Fury almost equally that of Ignis’ current mood blossomed on Loqi’s face. “You? You were the sniper–”

 

“That you failed to blow up? Yep. That’s me. Now. Grenade. Drop. Please.”  

 

Loqi didn’t get a chance to reply.

 

There was a groan from the sky – a dropship bearing down on their position.

 

Dammit.

 

Things had just gotten more complicated.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIE LOQI


	9. The Tent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! My LOVELY friend, ScribeOfReaper, drew me some fanart for the first part 49 Hours! I think you'll all recognize this scene pretty well. Heheh.
> 
> [Enjoy!](https://www.deviantart.com/shinigami-merchant/art/49-Hours-Art-Sacrifice-755553227)

He was calm. How odd.

 

Considering the past few days, Ignis wouldn’t have been surprised if his mind had completely given out on him and sent him into a traumatized fit at the sight of Loqi, but it wasn’t doing that.

 

His pulse was elevated, adrenaline was pumping, and sweat was trailing down his neck from his hairline, but he was focused. His thoughts were clear. Things were simple.

 

Loqi had to be stopped. He had to be stopped before he could hurt anyone else. Before he could cause the damage he’d done to Ignis to someone else.

 

Before he pulled the pin on that grenade and sent himself and half their party to join Drautos and Luche.

 

But now he wasn’t the only problem. The dropship was fast closing in, its hanger already most of the way open. Loqi would no doubt try to use this to his advantage to escape if he could–

 

_Blast!_

 

Ignis saw the source of his nightmares smirk, those cruel eyes locked onto Prompto as Prompto’s line of sight shifted to the ship for just a moment.

 

A moment too long.

 

“Prompto!” Ignis warned as Loqi pulled the pin on the grenade, hurling it at the blond.

 

Ignis knew. He knew Loqi was just using it as a distraction now the dropship was here, buying it time to get him backup, but it didn’t matter. Prompto’s life was in danger all the same.

 

Cor lunged, batting the grenade slightly off course and ducking, Gladio bringing up his shield to cover them both as Noct disappeared in a flash of blue light and then blinked back into existence by Prompto, tackling him to the ground as he summoned his own shield to cover them both.

 

Ignis didn’t even wait for the explosion to fully dissipate. Confident that the others were safe, he sprinted after Loqi’s retreating form.

 

Oh, the irony of _him_ chasing Loqi. How circumstances changed.

 

_Thud._

 

The sound was quieter than that of the grenade, yet it seemed to hold so much more impact because the MT in front of him cut him off from his goal as it landed.

 

Damn!

 

He staggered back as he tried to stop himself from crashing into the death machine. And then another landed beside it. And then another.

 

Ignis swore inwardly. Loqi would be long gone by the time they dealt with these new threats.

 

And he was.

 

The battle was a blur, but a quick one. Even with the Marshal there, ripping through the MTs like they were air, Loqi was on the dropship and leaving by the time most of the MTs were dead. Unfortunately, he wasn’t stupid enough to linger in the bay where Prompto could shoot him.

 

As Gladio’s sword cut down the last MT, Ignis glared at the ship that was slowly flying out of their sight.

 

“Hey…” Noct’s hand fell on his shoulder from behind. “You okay?”

 

Absently, Ignis noticed that his fists were shaking as he clenched them hard.

 

“I’m fine,” he whispered rawly.

 

“Aw, Iggy!” Prompto popped up on his other side and grabbed his bicep, tugging on it like a child. “We’ll get him next time!”

 

_Next time._ Ignis didn’t want to think about a next time. He didn’t want there to even _be_ a next time.

 

* * *

 

 

Given the unexpected turn of events, there wasn’t even a discussion of what to do next, and the return trip to the outpost was oppressively silent. Gladio couldn’t dismiss his thoughts away enough to even think of picking up his book.

 

That bastard Imperial. They’d been so close to getting rid of him for good. Gladio was so tired of those _looks_ Ignis and Noct shared. Oh yeah, and he was tired of Prompto’s I’m-sad-I-can’t-do-anything looks.

 

Gladio wondered if he had any look on his face about all this that the others noticed. Probably. Most likely just him seeming pissed off, because he was.

 

He spent the drive back staring at the back of Ignis’ head, trying to judge what shape his friend was in. This couldn’t have been easy, but Ignis was a very compartmentalized person, so Gladio figured he’d be fine in the long run. Noct was the one he needed to worry about.

 

“So…” Prompto broke the silence around halfway back. “What’s next?”

 

More silence.

 

“Noct?” Gladio prompted.

 

Noct flinched, blinking and looking around. “What?”

 

Gladio tipped his head towards Prompto. “Blondie asked what the plan was.”

 

“Oh. Um.” Noct crossed his arms. “See if Cor needs anything else and then head for Lestallum, I guess.”

 

Ignis stayed quiet.

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Gladio said. Iris was tough, but he’d like to see her and make sure she was all right. She… was the only family he had left now.

 

* * *

 

 

“I believe I’ll turn in early.” Ignis passed the dish he’d just washed off to Noct, who was drying. It had been a tiring day – first the base and then assisting the hunters with a few issues – but actually a comforting one. As horrible as it was that Loqi was still out there, Ignis felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He’d faced Loqi and remained perfectly in control of himself. His adrenaline had been lingering all day, but he was still focused. No shakes or that screaming sense of paralyzing panic that liked to sit in his chest and then _spread._

 

Perhaps nightmares just had a way of making things more terrifying than they really were.

 

“Yeah?” Noct lowered his voice. “You holding up okay?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Noct gave him a look.

 

“Truly.” Ignis gave him a faint smile. “Facing Loqi wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected. He is a mere pawn, made into more by my own fear-fueled imagination.”

 

“Iggy, that’s great!” Noct’s eyes lit, and Ignis was touched to see him so excited. “So, you’re feeling a lot better?”

 

“Much.” Ignis passed him another dish. He couldn’t say the same if he ended up fighting Loqi in the middle of a rainstorm, but the chances of that were less than likely. “Though I… might need you to take the wheel again should the weather turn.”

 

“Just say the word.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But be careful, I think Gladio’s getting suspicious.”

 

Ignis grunted. “Indeed. I’ve felt his eyes on me all day.”

 

“Well, soon he’ll see that everything’s fine.”

 

“Quite so.”

 

He went to bed shortly after, ending up in a light sleep. At one point he was conscious enough to register the others turning in as well, but he was quick to fall back asleep after that. It was nice to not be the last one in for a change, he thought as he was drifting off. The others were mindful enough to keep their noise to a minimum, which he greatly appreciated. Tomorrow he could rise well rested and with confidence.

 

_Pat._

_Pat._

_Pat._

_Patpatpatpatpat…_

 

Ignis shifted, keeping his eyes shut. He was conscious enough to feel a twinge of irritation. Being a light sleeper had served him well over the years, but sometimes it was rather inconvenient. He inhaled the sent of his pillow, willing whatever was making that tapping sound to go away and grant him rest. He couldn’t have been asleep more than a couple of hours.

 

_Patpatpatpatpat…_

 

And then there was a low rumble, barely there at first, but it built, reverberating past his remaining layers of sleep until it struck his very core with a jolt of realization.

 

That was thunder. If that was thunder, then…

 

Oh, Six.

 

_Patpatpatpatpat–_

Ignis’ eyes flew open, unable to look away from the tent’s roof as it trembled under the downpour of rain.

 

_No, no, no, nononono–_

 

Fabric. Wet. No air.

 

_Patpatpatpatpat._

 

Stopstopstopstop–

 

The cruel laughter that had haunted his dreams the last three years drowned out the thunder.

* * *

 

 

Prompto sighed softly, staring at the tent roof as rain pattered steadily on the fabric above. Camping sucked when it rained, but it wasn’t so bad when it started after they were inside. Kinda nice. Little bit like a lullaby. Like… like a hug to his ears. On a normal night rain actually helped him sleep.

 

Buuuut not tonight. Tonight apparently wasn’t for sleep, it was for mentally kicking himself. Ugh. If he just hadn’t looked at that stupid ship, then Loqi couldn’t have run off. Now Ignis was all quiet and had gone to bed early. Ignis never went to bed before them. That was, like, Lucian law. No, like Eos law. Like… _the sun rises and sets_ kind of law.

 

The closest one to him, Prompto could feel Ignis shift beside him, and he glanced over in time to make out the slight frown on his face.

 

Aw. Prompto grinned back at the roof. That was definitely picture worthy, but he wasn’t that mean.

 

A low rumble of thunder hit, and Prompto puffed air out between his lips. He needed to sleeeeeeeeeep, but his stupid brain wouldn’t shut up. Maybe he could try counting chocobos. Because that always worked. Right. Ugh–

 

There was a noise so loud and close to Prompto’s ear he jumped. He didn’t even know he could get that high in the air without using his feet, but crap, he’d managed it somehow.

 

Who, what, when, where, and again, _what?_

 

He was halfway to summoning his gun when he realized the noise was screaming.

 

_Ignis_ was screaming.  

 

Gladio bolted upright on Prompto’s other side. “What the hell? _Ignis?_ ”

 

“I don’t know, he just started screaming!” Prompto babbled out, knowing he was talking way too fast but unable to make himself stop. “He must be having a nightmare or something–”

 

Gladio cut him off by scrambling over Prompto’s legs to get over to Ignis. “Ignis? Hey!”

 

Ignis’ screaming only got louder when Gladio tried to touch him, causing Gladio to flinch back as Ignis began twisting around in his sleeping bag.

 

“Dude, wake him up!” Prompto resisted covering his ears. Six, it was so awful sounding! It was so raw and terrified and un-Ignis. _Desperate._

 

“He’s not asleep!” Gladio snapped back.

 

What…? Oh, Astrals, that was even _worse_ – Ignis’ eyes were wide and panicked, but somehow not seeing what was actually around him. His gaze swung wildly around, completely missing Gladio despite him being _right there_.

 

“Oh, _shit,_ ” hissed Noct – so that’s what it took to wake him up these days when it came to noise – as he tore off the covers of his sleeping bag.

 

Gladio pinned Ignis down by his wrists suddenly. “Iggy! Come on!”

 

“Gladio, get off him!” Noct ordered, tripping a bit over Prompto’s legs as he tried to get to them. “You’re making him worse!”

 

Noct wasn’t wrong. Ignis seized under Gladio’s hold, trying to escape with all of his confused strength. A sob broke through the screaming.

 

“No, no! You’ll gain no information from me!” Ignis cried.

 

…Okay, that just took the cake for the Worst Sound Ever. Prompto felt the sting of moisture in his eyes. Wrong. This was so wrong.

 

Gladio let go with one hand, drawing his arm back. “Snap out of it, Ignis!”

 

“ _Gladio, don’t!_ ”

 

Noct’s warning wasn’t out it time, and the tent abruptly quieted as all the noise Ignis was making ceased with a slap.

 

Ignis’ harsh, shaking breaths were the only sound as he continued to tremble. “…G-Gladio?” His eyes were still blown wide and panicked, like he expected someone to attack him at any moment. He definitely still wasn’t all there. No, yeah, he was totally closer to hyperventilating than being okay.

 

“You _idiot. Move,_ ” Noct growled, shoving Gladio’s shoulder so that he moved and let Noct take his place, kneeling by Ignis’ side. Noct’s voice turned soft. “Ignis? Hey, Ignis, look at me.” He gently took Ignis’ hands into his own, bringing them between them and pinching his palms in some special way as he guided him into a seated position. “Yeah, look at me. That’s it.”

 

Ignis still sounded like he couldn’t get enough air as his gaze strayed to the roof of the tent.

 

“Hey! Hey, Ignis, how ’bout you keep your eyes on me, huh?” He squeezed hard on the points of Ignis’ hands. “Prompto, get me your earbuds.”

 

Prompto blinked, taking a split second to realize that he was the one being spoken to before he attacked his bag ferociously, digging to find his earbuds and yanking them out as best he could without ruining them.

 

Noct wasted no time in snagging them and securing them in Ignis’ ears. “Breathe with me, Iggy. Just like this.” He made his slow example of breathing as he plugged the earbuds into the phone and started playing something. Then he started slowly signing to Ignis as the music played.

 

Ignis’ breathing calmed marginally, and he gave a shaky nod to Noct. He managed to hold his own hands up in front of him and started tapping his fingers against his palms in a certain pattern.

 

…Wait. Prompto had seen that before. Ignis had been tapping out that pattern a lot lately when he was usually as still as a wall.

 

“ _Your Highness?_ ”

 

Cor’s voice had them all snapping their heads towards the door of the tent, even Ignis, who had apparently heard it over his music.

 

And… now Ignis seemed to have realized that Prompto and Gladio were really there, because he was staring at them with a mixture of horror and dread.

 

“Hey.” Noct gently turned Ignis’ chin back towards him. “Don’t worry about them. Don’t worry about anything, okay? It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Noct gave them a grim look over his shoulder. “Can you guys give us some space here?”

 

“Right…” Gladio said thickly. “We’ll go talk to Cor…”

 

Go talk to Cor. Right. Yeah, Prompto was pretty sure he was going to hurl if he had to talk to anyone right now.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every review I get I'll make Loqi's end 1% more brutal, okay? Deal? XD


	10. The Depature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have tissues, right? :D

It seemed to take forever, but Ignis’ labored breaths finally died down as Noct coaxed him back to sleep with music and breathing exercises. He looked so peaceful that it was hard to believe he’d just been screaming his lungs out in terror.

 

Noctis swallowed, setting his phone next to Ignis’ head and leaving the music on. Astrals, he’d hoped he’d never have to put on that stupid playlist again. A couple months before they’d left Insomnia he’d considered deleting it. Things like _this_ were the only reason he had it, and Ignis had been doing _so_ well.

 

Damn it all.

 

Damn the stupid rain.

 

Damn Loqi.

 

And now Noctis had to go face everyone else. What was he even going to say? And Cor was out there. Great. As if explaining this to Gladio and Prompto wasn’t bad enough.

 

Noct ran a hand through his hair before tugging Ignis’ sleeping bag back up to cover his shoulders. He wasn’t going to give everyone else the finer details. Those weren’t his to give. But he had to tell them some of the truth, and maybe it would actually be better if it was him and Ignis didn’t have to do it himself.

 

With one last regretful look at Ignis’ somewhat curled-up form, Noct stood as much as he could and maneuvered his way out the tent door.

 

…Oh boy. Looked like he’d been in there with Ignis even longer than he thought because the chairs were out again and set up around a new fire. Cor looked pretty much the same as always – arms crossed as he sat in his chair with the usual scowl-face. Prompto was bouncing one leg restlessly as he slouched in his own chair. And then there was Gladio, who was staring into the fire with his elbows propped on his knees.

 

Prompto shot out of his chair as soon as he saw Noctis. “Noct! Is Iggy–”

 

“Shhhh!” Noctis hissed, putting some distance between him and the tent. “I just got him back to sleep.” Granted, Ignis wasn’t likely to hear them through his sleep and the music, but he was a light enough sleeper that Noct didn’t want to take the chance. He noticed that they’d already set up a chair for him, and he sank into it as soon as he got that far, suddenly feeling exhausted.

 

“Well?” Cor asked bluntly.

 

Noctis sighed. “Well, what?”

 

“I heard screams all the way down at the outpost. Would you like to explain what that was about?”

 

“Not really…” Noctis muttered.

 

“ _Noct,_ ” Gladio borderline snapped. “That wasn’t some nightmare – that was PTSD, plain and simple.”

 

“There is _nothing_ plain and simple about post-traumatic stress,” Cor said.

 

Noctis let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, you’re not wrong about that…”

 

“Noct…” Prompto hovered by his chair, hands wrung together. “You knew exactly what you were doing in there…”

 

“This has been going on for a while, hasn’t it?” Gladio filled in Prompto’s unvoiced question.

 

“I’d imagine around three years.” Cor’s gaze drilled into him. “Am I correct?”

 

Noctis took a slow breath. “…Yeah…”

 

Gladio swore, raking a hand through his hair. “Noct, what the hell? We needed to know about this – as your Shield, _I_ needed to know about this! Why didn’t you two tell us?”

 

“Because he didn’t want people treating him differently!” Noctis rubbed his neck, willing himself to stop tensing his shoulders. “I… He’s worked so hard. He was _fine!_ It had been over a year since last time, and that wasn’t nearly as bad.”

 

“But… but…” Prompto somehow managed to look more miserable than him, on the verge of crying or throwing up or something. “But we could have helped…”

 

Noctis smiled softly. “You did.” He looked to Gladio. “Every day. Just by being there and being steady and normal. _That_ was what he needed.”

 

“What he needed was a professional, not a seventeen-year-old boy who’d also been through trauma. You should have reported it the first time he showed any signs of this level of trauma.”

 

Noctis’ gut flipped at Cor’s cold tone. “He… he asked me not to say anything to anyone.”

 

The look Cor gave him was borderline condescending. “As you’re now King, I believe it would be best if you learned the difference between what’s _wanted_ and what should actually be done. I’ve watched veterans – friends – struggle with matters like these. Every single one of them wanted to deal with things on their own, and none of the ones that took that road went anywhere good.”

 

“He trusted me!” Noctis snapped, tired of the berating. He didn’t regret what he’d done. He honestly didn’t believe anyone could have done better. “Don’t you think I thought about telling my dad? Ignis was hurting because of what he did for _me,_ and he asked me to keep it a secret. What would you have done? Because somehow I don’t think betraying his trust when I was the only one he had to confide in would have helped him any. I might not have been a doctor, but I did my research and I had his back. He was _not_ alone.”

 

Silence fell briefly, and Noctis pressed his palms into his eyes for a moment before dropping his hands back to his lap. Research. That reminded him of something. “Gladio, um… he might be a little jumpy around you for a couple days…”

 

Gladio looked more off guard than Noctis had ever seen him. “What?”

 

“Try not to take it personally. He’ll know you were just trying to help with that slap, but… it’s just gonna be a subconscious thing.”

 

Gladio looked baffled.

 

Noctis sighed. “Look, movies and stuff like to spread around this idea that slapping people is the best way to stop them from freaking out – and in a combat situation when it’s that or their life, it probably is – but… depending on what the original trauma is from, it can actually do more harm.” Why was this not standard training, anyway?

 

Prompto tilted his head owlishly. “You really _did_ do research on this, didn’t you?”

 

Noct nodded. After that one time… he was going to make sure _that_ never happened again. “Yeah… Iggy thought that a slap would help too. Told me to do it if something like this happened again. But afterward, he couldn’t stop flinching around me for days. He felt super guilty, but he couldn’t control it. Like I said, subconscious thing. I’d accidentally sent his brain the message that if he freaked out around me I was going to hurt him.”

 

“And I just gave him that message about me…” Gladio swore again. “See, this, Noct? This is why we needed to know.”

 

“It wasn’t my decision to make, Gladio!” What about that weren’t they getting? “And I told you – before now he’d had things under control for over a year.”

 

“But now Loqi’s back…” Prompto murmured.

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Enough of the past,” Cor said. “What’s done is done. The question is what happens next.”

 

Noct knew exactly where Cor was going with that, and he knew Gladio had to be thinking it too – how much of a threat was Ignis’ condition to their group? Well, he wasn’t having that, and especially not tonight.

 

“What’s next is we wait for the morning.” Noctis dropped his hands to his lap. “If we’re gonna talk about this, Ignis deserves to be here for it.” He waited for someone to protest, but, surprisingly, not even Cor did.

 

Cool. At least he’d postponed this crap, then. He might have needed to sleep, but he was pretty sure he was going to just lie down and think. Whatever the case, things were still awkward when they tried to pile back into the tent.

 

“Prompto.” Noctis caught his shoulder when he was about to go inside. “Would you mind swapping places? It’s… probably best that I stick closest to him.”

 

Prompto’s entire face dropped further with worry and pain, but he bobbled his head faintly all the same. “Uh-huh. Yeah… sure thing.”

 

And so Noct settled into Prompto’s usual sleeping bag next to Ignis, close enough that Ignis could snuggle into him if he wanted. Ignis rarely did that, but sometimes he did seek out physical contact after a bad episode – another of his many stabilizing points.

 

…Oh. Ignis shifted closer to him instantly, their shoulders bumping.

 

Damn… This _really_ was a bad one, then. But… Noctis was still gonna help in any way he could.

 

Just like he had been.

 

Maybe this would be even better. Maybe now that Gladio and Prompto knew, the support would be everywhere and Ignis could make faster progress than the last times.

 

Maybe… He guessed all there was to do was hope until the morning.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio wasn’t sure when, but he must have drifted off at some point during his internal swearing montage because suddenly the morning’s light was outside.

 

He withheld a groan. Six, he hadn’t slept this bad since his sleep deprivation training. He’d never felt so much like ignoring the world and falling back into the comforting void where he could still pretend his father was alive and one of his closest friends wasn’t being tortured by his own mind, but that wasn’t going to happen.

 

Plans and decisions had to be made, and they weren’t going to make themselves.

 

He stretched with a grimace as he sat up. Six, what were they going to do about Ignis? What could they do? Trick question. He already knew the answer, but it wasn’t one that was going to fly with the rest of the group and even Gladio would give anything to find another way.

 

He was a Shield, and he was a friend. Normally, those coexisted well, but not today. Today they were conflicting. Battle partners and everyday confidants were important, but those were supposed to help him do his duty, not… sabotage it.

 

Sabotage. Astrals, that was so unfair, but it was true. Shields didn’t get to sugar coat things. Shields didn’t get to pick friends over duty.

 

Try as he might, Gladio couldn’t keep his gaze from straying over to where… Ignis… was… _not_. The spot next to Noct was empty.

 

Gladio instantly moved over to the tent door, getting it open as quickly as he could without tearing it. The motion was a practiced one, but it still felt too slow.

 

He let out a puff of air, relieved as he spotted Ignis at his usual post – at his small food preparation table as he set aside a third bowl of what looked like oatmeal. Gladio frowned as Ignis stopped there and didn’t make a fourth. Instead, he started putting away the dishes and silverware he’d dirtied.

 

That was very… un-Ignis. Someone else Gladio would probably expect to skip breakfast after what happened last night, but Ignis hounded them all the time on keeping to regular eating schedules when they could and not missing meals. Granted, there were many times Gladio had caught him pushing back dinner in order to get work done, but not breakfast. Ignis was next to religious about getting a good breakfast in so he could face the day or whatever.

 

“Hey,” Gladio greeted cautiously, not wanting to startle him if he hadn’t heard him approaching.

 

Ignis’ hands stilled for a moment before resuming their task. “Good morning, Gladio.” He didn’t look at him.

 

What could he say that wouldn’t seem too pitying or insensitive? “How are you?” Neutral tone. Hopefully that would come across right.

 

“As well as to be expected, I suppose.” Ignis was trying to sound normal, but his words were just a bit too tight. “Your breakfast is ready, if you’d like to start eating now. I’m sure Noct and Prompto won’t care if you start without them.”

 

“Ignis…” Gladio licked his lips. “You can’t just dismiss this. Look, I would love to pretend this didn’t happen and let you deal with it on your own time, but I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”

 

“I do know, Gladio. The last thing I would fault you for is doing your duty.” Ignis finished with his kitchen work and moved off to the side, filling up a canteen with water from one of the bigger jugs they’d brought.  

 

“Yeah, and I’m not gonna bag on you for wanting to deal with this crap without everyone knowing about it, but c’mon, Iggy.” Gladio spread his arms. “This is _me._ What, did you think _I_ was going to pity you?”

 

“No.” Ignis grabbed a couple of protein bars – the ones Gladio definitely remembered being lectured not to eat in place of a meal – from where they were left by the oatmeal. “I knew you wouldn’t pity me. I knew you’d doubt me.”

 

“Damn it, Iggy, that’s not fair.” It really wasn’t. And it _doubly_ wasn’t fair for Ignis to say that without even looking at him.

 

“You’ve done more to help Noct than you should ever have to. You’re more loyal than most of my ancestors. Just because I’m worried about you keeling over in battle doesn’t mean I doubt you.” He stepped forwards, reaching for Ignis’ shoulder to get him to face him. “What you’ve got going on is no more dishonorable than a physical scar–”

 

The instant his hand touched Ignis’ shirt, Ignis jumped away, knocking one of the thermoses next to the oatmeal over. He scrambled to pick it up again before it spilled too much, setting it back upright with a shaking hand.

 

Gladio swallowed. Shit. He should have thought about Noct’s warning.

 

Ignis braced himself with both hands on the small table, his voice hoarse. “Sorry…”

 

“No.” Gladio’s stomach churned unpleasantly. “You don’t apologize for that. _I’m_ sorry.” Six, it was so hard to see him like this. “…Would you look at me? Please?”

 

Ignis sighed, slowly pushing off the table and turning around. Gladio didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so drastically different in just a few hours, but Ignis did. It wasn’t a big thing, just lots of little imperfections the man wouldn’t normally be caught dead with – his hair a little droopy, his glasses smudged with a large fingerprint, the set of his shoulders just a bit too sagged… Honestly, it looked like he had one hell of a hangover, but none of the fun that came beforehand.

 

A slight movement caught Gladio’s eye, and he glanced down to see Ignis thrumming his fingers on his leg in a set motion.

 

…Oh. He’d seen that before. He’d see that a lot the last few days. He’d thought it was weird then – Ignis was never that twitchy – but with the loss of Insomnia, he’d figured it was just an anxious tick. Now he knew better. That was a damn grounding method, and he’d started using it… since just after he found out about Insomnia.

 

“…Have you been using that since Galdin?”

 

No wonder Noct had been the one driving them back.

 

Ignis looked downright ashamed as he nodded. “It helps a bit. Tactile patterns, pressure points, reading aloud…”

 

Astrals, how many times had Gladio seen those the last few days? And how many had he missed on top of those?

 

Ignis was still looking anywhere but at Gladio. “I’d thought… it had been so long that I’d dared to hope I was past this, but Insomnia… Loqi’s escape… I’m no better than I was years ago.”

 

“Yeah, well, you got better then, at least for a while. You can do it again.”

 

Ignis stared at the ground, chuckling dryly. “Perhaps. But not like this. I’m… too much of a liability.”

 

Gladio didn’t like the sound of that. “What are you sayin’, Iggy?”

 

“You know what I’m saying.”

 

Suddenly, Ignis packing protein bars and water made a sickening sense.

 

“…You’re leaving…”

 

Ignis finally met his gaze. “Are you going to tell me it’s the wrong course of action?”

 

He wasn’t. He couldn’t. As a friend, he wanted to say yes. As a friend, half of him was screaming for him to stop Ignis and keep him as close as possible. To help him.

 

But his other half said something else. The half of him that firmly remembered his oath as Shield. There was duty bound to defend Noct from any and all threats. Ignis – his _condition_ – _was_ a threat. If what happened last night happened during battle, or if Noct even thought it was a possibility…

 

Noct couldn’t afford to be distracted, especially not now. The slightest distraction in battle could mean the difference between life and death.

 

It was a fact: Ignis could easily get Noct killed in his current condition.

 

“No…” Gladio forced out finally. “I wish that I could…”

 

“But you can’t. Because it’s the truth, and you won’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your duty.” The was pain behind his eyes. A true, soul-deep agony. “And neither will I.” He bowed his head again, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his tear ducts.

 

It hit Gladio then – he’d woken up earlier than Ignis had intended. He was normally an early riser, but if he slept in more than usual, then Ignis would wake them all up just a bit before breakfast. Breakfast was done, and Ignis hadn’t made any for himself. He’d been planning on leaving before the rest of them got up. Because Noct and Prompto would have made things so much harder. They wouldn’t have let him go.

 

Maybe it would have been better if he’d left before Gladio found him too. Not that he could make it much worse for Ignis. Having to walk away from them – from Noct – was a greater torture to Ignis than anything else could ever be.

 

Ignis sucked in a breath sharply, and this time when he looked up there was unshed moisture in his eyes. “I would have remained with you all. Until the very end.”

 

There was a pressure in Gladio’s chest that was threatening to break free. He slowly held up his hand, giving Ignis plenty of time to stop him or move away if he wanted to. When Ignis didn’t flinch as Gladio set his hand on his shoulder, Gladio took it a step further and pulled him into a cross-armed hug.

 

“You take care of yourself, okay?” Gladio said softly.

 

“I ask the same of you.” Ignis returned the hug with a strong grip. “And take care of _them._ ”

 

“I will, I swear.” Gladio pulled back, not wanting to take his chances on how much contact Ignis could handle. “Where you gonna go?”

 

A sad smile tugged at Ignis’ lips. “To see an old friend.”

 

Gladio frowned. Ignis had other friends besides them? “Well, tell him if he does anything you disapprove of I’ll come kick his ass.”

 

Ignis snorted in sudden, out of place laughter. “I’ll be certain to pass that on to her.”

 

Her? What in the hell? Now he suddenly had an old friend who was a woman? What else had Gladio missed about Ignis?

 

Ignis squared his shoulders, blinking frequently. “Goodbye, Gladio.”

 

Gladio couldn’t watch as Ignis walked away. He turned his back, rubbing the salty wetness from his cheeks as his friend’s footsteps faded. He sank into his chair by the dead fire.

 

What had he done?

 


	11. The Meeting

“Where is he?”

 

“Noct–”

 

“ _Where the hell is he, Gladio?_ ” Noct’s words were harsh – scorching hot with rage and betrayal and sorrow as his narrowed eyes drilled into Gladio. “Tell me!”

 

“I don’t know!” Gladio finally bellowed back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Prompto flinch at the sound, but he didn’t have time to feel guilty. “He didn’t tell me!”

 

Gladio wasn’t sure it was possible, but Noct somehow managed to look even angrier as he shoved his hand into his pocket and yanked out his phone.

 

Gladio sighed. “Noct, he’s not gonna answer… He didn’t want us to know. Don’t make it harder on him–”

 

“I want to _help_ him!”

 

“Then leave him alone!” Gladio snapped. “You know how hard it had to be for him to walk away from us! Do you really think he made that decision lightly?”

 

“He only did this because he thinks he’s holding us back!” Noct jabbed angrily at his phone. Gladio was almost surprised the screen didn’t crack.

 

“He _is_ , Noct!”

 

Noct looked up at him sharply, and Gladio could have sworn the temperature around them dropped. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up like there was another storm coming in.

 

“Did you say that to him?” Noct’s voice had an edge to it Gladio had never heard before.

 

“No,” Gladio said calmly. “And nothing I could have said would have made him stay. He’s too stubborn for that.” Gladio took a breath, trying to choose his next words carefully. “This isn’t just better for us, Noct. It’s better for him. He needs to be somewhere without all this pressure! Or did you want him getting captured and killing himself to protect you _again?_ ”

 

Noct went dead silent. Yeah, it was a low blow, but Noct needed to hear it. Gladio knew now that more went on during the Tummelt Affair, but that part of Ignis’ report had stuck in his head pretty well.

 

Six, Ignis hadn’t held back his suicide attempt, but he’d never mentioned whatever had caused _this_ crap? It really must have been bad. Judging from his words last night and why he’d been kidnapped, it was pretty safe to assume torture.

 

“…Dude, that wasn’t cool.” Prompto spoke for the first time in a while, staring at the oatmeal bowl beside him that was fixed exactly how Gladio knew he liked it.

 

“No, it isn’t. But it’s true.” Gladio kept his eyes on Noct as he spoke.

 

“He needs me…” Noct’s voice came out a rasp.

 

“Everyone needs you right now, Noct.” Gladio swallowed, willing the young Prince–  _King_ to understand. “What Ignis needs… is not this life. And by the Astrals, this is hard for me too, but it’s what’s best for all of us.”

 

Noct opened his mouth a couple times, but he couldn’t seem to find anything to say.

 

Prompto reached out and picked up his bowl of oatmeal, biting his lip. “What… what’s he even gonna do without us?”

 

That was a good question. Ignis’ life was caring for others. What would he do on his own? Care for his friend he was going to meet? She’d probably either fall in love with him or kick him out by the end of the week.

 

* * *

 

“You know… when I said… my legs… needed a stretch… this is not… what I had… in mind…”

 

Nyx rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth as his own legs screamed in protest. He loved Pelna dearly – like a little brother, or a stray dog, or a small wet kitten that thought it was threatening when it hissed – but right now he was about to throw his shoe at his head. Except then he’d have the push the car by himself, so maybe that was a bad idea.

 

Still. Even with Pelna pushing on the other side of the car, his complaints were definitely close enough to grate on Nyx’s nerves.

 

“You want some cheese and crackers with your _whine,_ Glaive?” There. He could compromise with that.

 

“…You know, honestly? If it’s food, I _will_ take it.”

 

“Awesome. Here – I have a pack of peanuts.”

 

“…Rude.”

 

Nyx ducked his head, grinning at the ground as he gave another hard shove. Pelna was nearly deathly allergic to peanuts.

 

Six, why was the Prince’s luxury car so heavy? Or was he just getting old?

 

“There’s a haven up ahead.” The Princess spoke up from her place in the driver’s seat, where she was shielding her eyes from the low sun’s glare.

 

Pelna let out a noise that could have been relief but also sounded a bit like a dying Garula.

 

Nyx just let out a sigh of relief. They’d gotten to a haven before nightfall. That was the best luck they’d had since leaving Insomnia. Though he supposed they were lucky the car had lasted this long with the beating it had taken in getting them out of the city safely.

 

The next question was… where exactly were they? Other than the middle of nowhere, that was.

 

Well, at least they had a safe place to sleep while they figured that out.

 

* * *

 

“Two gil, hun,” the elderly lady behind the counter said in a tone that sounded like she’d lost all joy in life long ago.

 

Ignis handed his gil over with some reluctance. He didn’t have much to spare, but they weren’t simply going to let him sit in here without ordering anything. One of the cheapest things on the menu seemed like a good compromise.

 

He took his order of fries, and, managing not to grimace at them, sat down in the corner of the diner. He wondered how many times the others would resort to eating at the Crow’s Nest in his absence.

 

With a sigh, he pushed the fries a few inches back on the table. He needed to be collecting himself and forming a plan, not wallowing in his own sorrow. It was difficult, though. Even when he’d been kidnapped and Noct wasn’t there yet, he’d felt less alone than now. There was an itch in the back of his mind – a subconscious tug that was causing him to have the constant urge to _do_ something. He felt a calling to fix something, or cook something. But it was just him. There was nothing to do. He _never_ had nothing to do. The others always needed him for something.

 

_Stop it,_ he told himself. They’d be fine. Noct had more than proved he could take care of himself the other day, and he still had Gladio and Prompto. Their nutrition was probably going to suffer the most, honestly.

 

Ignis rolled his shoulders. Everything was fine. He was going to get better and see them again. This was merely the first step.

 

He stared at his completely steady hands, lacing them together atop the table. He was in control for the moment. So long as he was careful, he could stay in control. He would not come unraveled so easily again. Aranea might have figured out his… mental issues a couple of years back, but seeing him was a different story. That was not the impression he wanted to give when she arrived.

 

Bloody hell, he was more nervous about that than he had any right to be. He’d been speaking to her for years, and it wasn’t as though they were meeting to speak about personal issues. No… no matter how much Ignis would have enjoyed meeting her again under more pleasant circumstances, this was not the time. They had other things to worry about.

 

“What the hell did you do to your hair?”

 

Ignis nearly gasped, startled by the familiar, teasing voice as he looked up from his table. He hadn’t heard her come in.

 

Her words might have seemed insulting, but he could tell from her playful tone and the mischievous twinkle in her eyes that she was just being… her.

 

He resisted the urge to adjust his glasses as he took her in for the first time in so long. Even with only a glance, some things were clear – the lack of her Imperial armor, for one. She was dressed in nice yet worn clothes befitting that of a hunter, and she seemed more at ease. No surprise there. The circumstances of last time understandably had her tense the whole time. Now she just looked… comfortable. Not only with her surroundings, but somehow with life. Adjusted. Free.

 

“Hello, Aranea.” He took pride in his voice being completely level.

 

“Hey, Specs.” She smiled back, eyes flickering over his face.

 

He supposed he must have changed more than he realized in the last few years. He gestured to the booth across from him. “Would you do me the pleasure of joining me?”

 

“Nah.” She grinned as she slid into the booth. “I thought I’d just travel for ages, walk in and say hi, and then leave before hearing what you had to say.”

 

Ignis chuckled. “I see your level of sarcasm has not declined in the least.”

 

“If it ever does, I expect you to kill me before I get too boring.” She stretched her legs out, propping them beside his leg on his side of the booth.

 

“Duly noted.” It was easy to smile at her humor. To relax in her presence. Ironic, considering the circumstances of their meeting, but she didn’t have any expectations for him. She didn’t place any burdens. As much as he adored Noct and Prompto and Gladio, there was no denying his responsibilities while he was with them. For the first time that he could remember, he didn’t have that. And it honestly terrified him.

 

He wanted to be relied on. He _needed_ to be relied on. But people couldn’t rely on him until he could rely on himself again, and these were the first steps to that.

 

“So… where’s the rest of the boy band?” She crossed her arms, lounging back. “I’ve still only officially met you and Prince Pretty Boy.”

 

Ah. Of course she’d expect them to be here. He’d purposefully kept his message vague for a number of reasons. “Apologies. I’m afraid they won’t be joining us. You’ll have to meet Prompto and Gladio another time.”

 

Aranea’s eyebrows shot up. Clearly she was not expecting that answer. “You’re here alone? If they aren’t within a mile of you, then where the hell are they?”

 

And here was the can of worms being officially torn open. “I don’t know. I left them up farther north.”

 

“…You left them?”

 

Ignis nodded, trying to judge her thoughts by her expression. It was more difficult than he thought. Their messages over the years wouldn’t help him read her face.

 

She sat back up straight after a moment of silence, dragging his food towards her. “Okay. I’m going to eat these fries – since you obviously aren’t – and you’re going to have to explain that one.” 

 

He made a dismissive gesture at the fries. “There’s not truly that much to explain. You know my troubles. It became too dangerous for me to stay around Noct.”

 

Granted, she didn’t know the full story. More than everyone but Noct, but still not the full thing.

 

His own flawless scheduling had tipped her off a few weeks after the Tummelt Affair. The first time it had rained since the Affair had been one of the worst attacks he’d ever had. Coincidentally and fortunately, it had happened on a Sunday, so he wasn’t expected at the Citadel, but the break in his routine had alerted two people all the same. Noct, of course, because he’d noticed rather quickly that there was no one cooking for him when he woke up – which Ignis always did Sunday mornings in particular – and Aranea, whose texts he’d always replied to promptly. Leaving her message unread for most of the day had been enough to clue her in that something was wrong, and he couldn’t find the strength to lie to her when he finally did answer her.

 

“So, you walked away to keep him safe.” She leisurely trailed a fry through the small ketchup dish. “I’m sure he took that well.”

 

Guilt gave a pang within Ignis’ gut. “No, I’m certain he did not.” He hoped Noct wasn’t giving Gladio too hard of a time. He’d meant to be gone by the time any of them arose.

 

“Ali right.” She paused for a moment to chew. “Anyone else and I’d think you called me here because you were lonely or something, but this is you. What’s your plan and what’s the part I’m supposed to play?”

 

Ignis looked her dead in the eye. “I need you to help me track down and kill Loqi.”


	12. The Plan

Aranea’s next fry froze midway to her mouth. A drop of ketchup fell from it and landed on the table. “You are _way_ too smart to think that’s actually going to help you, right? I mean, yeah, him not being around might be more comforting, but there’s no fix-all to trauma. You _know_ that.”

 

“Of course I do.” Ignis paused to lick his lips. “This isn’t about me.”

 

“For Noct, then?” She arched an eyebrow. “You sure you aren’t using that as an excuse?”

 

“I don’t deny that I would likely be more at ease with Loqi out of the picture entirely.” Ignis laced his fingers together again, trying to look as genuine about that as he felt. “But no. We’ve both dealt with Loqi before. We know how savage and ruthless he became in an attempt to accomplish his goals.”

 

Aranea grimaced faintly at that but didn’t say anything, so Ignis continued.

 

“Now he’s been locked away for three years, stewing on that anger all the time.” Loqi’s sneer flickered in his mind, and Ignis tried to will it away. “I have no doubt that his ruthlessness has grown even worse. He’ll be desperate to prove to the Empire that he’s still useful.”

 

Aranea nodded, finally eating her fry, though she didn’t pick up another one. “So, you think he’s gonna be all guns blazing after Noct…”

 

Oh, he was almost positive. “It would simultaneously win him favor and grant him revenge.”

 

“Wouldn’t revenge be more against you? Or me?”

 

“Of course.” Ignis doubted Loqi even hated Prompto as much as him even after finding out he was the shooter. “But that’s revenge alone. I’m not important enough for the Empire to award him for my death or capture.”

 

Aranea snorted. Loudly. “You haven’t checked your intelligence reports lately, have you?”

 

Ignis frowned slightly. “Pardon?” He had, actually. That was rather key to his job. To what was she referring?

 

She let out a sigh, crossing her arms once more. “I guess it wouldn’t actually make the _official_ reports after all… Okay, so you are definitely important to the Empire.”

 

“Not like Noct, I’m not.” Of course he was somewhat important. They had tried to kidnap him for information, after all. But they’d already taken Insomnia now. His knowledge was pointless. Noct was the one they still needed. “They only use I could be to them now is a way to get to him.”

 

“Uh-huh. Not true.” She tapped her fingers on her arm. “Specs, you caused the biggest failure of a mission the Empire ever sanctioned, and word spread. The entire world pretty much heard about it. You escaping the Crown City – never mind you not being there, just that you didn’t die – has pissed them off even more. Now, the general population might have forgotten your name over the years, but the Empire would like nothing better than to remind them of it by announcing that they finally got your head.”

 

She had a point. Of course. He kneaded his forehead.

 

“I suppose it doesn’t help matters that Loqi saw me again… Still, I believe Noct will be his true target. Killing or capturing me would still be just a very delayed finishing of his prior mission. Capturing Noct would be the extra mile into landing himself back into a life of respect and comfort.”

 

“Well, I can’t argue with you there, unfortunately.” She sighed. “Okay. I’m in.”

 

“Truly?” He hadn’t realized how concerned he’d been about her saying no until the relief swept through him.

 

“Yeah. Are you kidding? It’s thanks to that asshat Biggs and Wedge and I haven’t been able to settle anywhere more than a couple months.”

 

…Now there was something he hadn’t thought of until now. He wasn’t the only one who was missing his usual following. “Where _are_ Biggs and Wedge?” He actually wouldn’t have minded seeing them again.

 

Aranea shrugged. “We have set meeting places, but you know we don’t always stick together. Too risky. They were taking on some pretty big hunt near the chocobo post last I heard. If you stick around long enough you can meet them with me there.”

 

Ignis truthfully had no idea whether or not he’d be sticking around long enough. He hadn’t exactly had much time to plan any of this. It hadn’t even entered his mind until he’d awoken after his latest attack, and he certainly hadn’t been thinking the clearest then either. This had started while he’d made a rushed batch of oatmeal for the others.

 

Still. Ignis wasn’t naive enough to assume this would be an easy task. It might take some while before they were able to even track down Loqi, and after that was the… execution. And after that… well, Aranea was right. This wouldn’t solve his problems entirely. There was a high chance he wouldn’t return to the others for quite a long while.

 

“Perhaps I might.” The thought of not returning to his friends was never going to not make his stomach churn, but staying with Aranea was more than a consolation. Not to mention seeing Biggs and Wedge. He’d never even spoken to Biggs since he’d last seen him close to bleeding out on the floor. Thanking him in person would be a benefit.

 

Aranea smiled. An actual, proper smile with no mirth or teasing present. “Works for me. You got a place to stay the night while I look into finding Loqi?”

 

…Did he? Not really. Damn. He was usually so thorough with his planning. As soon as he had a moment, he was going to need to sit down and evaluate everything with a clearer perspective. A _much_ clearer perspective. That was the point of his departure in the first place – to deal with this rubbish of his without endangering Noct.

 

Aranea kept on without waiting for his reply. “I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of gil to spare, but I’ve always got a room fund set aside.” She held up a hand as he opened his mouth. “No. Don’t even think about refusing.”

 

His scowl deepened. He realized that she was merely trying to make the best of what funds both of them had, but still. She was a woman. He’d be sharing a room with a woman. Who was Aranea. Who he fully admitted – to himself – that he harbored feelings for.

 

Dear Astrals, if he’d been trying to get away from stress, he’d failed.

 

He hated these bloody stupid emotions. What was he, a teenager again? Aranea was a professional. _He_ was a professional. It was a room, nothing more. This wasn’t one of Gladio’s fictional romantic books where they were going to get the last room and be forced to share a bed.

 

“…Very well,” he relented finally.

 

Aranea looked pleased that he wasn’t arguing. “Good. Then we can finish these fries, book a room, and then we can do a bit of catching up while I wait for my contacts to get back to me.”

 

That sounded agreeable. He was anxious to get on with things, but he couldn’t deny the allure of some peace in a hotel room, away from all the strangers in the area.

 

…If Aranea would let him have peace. A small part of him was hoping she’d tease him like normal. He could use something normal right now.

* * *

 

 

“Hey, look, they’ve got a mirror in here tall enough for you to do your hair.”

 

Ignis smiled, setting the contents of his pockets on the small bed farthest from the door. Thank goodness he’d been right and the motel had rooms with two beds fully available.

 

Aranea exited the bathroom and moved over to her own bed, bending over to plug her phone cord into the wall before plugging the other end into her phone.

 

“Her” phone. He wondered how she’d managed to even keep Prompto’s old phone connected and working this long.

 

Aranea prodded at the phone’s screen after setting it down. “Okay, I’ve got my contacts on the search for Loqi. About all we can do at this point is wait. Maybe take a hunt or two later if it takes that long.”

Ignis suspected they might do that. It was always good to have some extra funds, but, more importantly, if they were to be fighting together it might be good to get some experience before facing Loqi. They’d need to be in sync to face the amount of troops that Loqi would likely have around him.

 

“Do you need some time?”

 

Ignis blinked, taking note of how Aranea was studying him with one hand on her hip and one eyebrow arched up. “What do you–”

 

“Don’t.” Aranea held up a finger. “Come on, the wheels in your head have been turning since we met up, so I’m gonna ask this now before things get messy – do you need some time?”

 

Bloody hell, he hated this. When had he become so easy to read? Even so… he couldn’t lie to her when he’d asked her here to assist him with something that would put her life on the line. “I… wouldn’t be opposed.”

 

“Okay,” she said with no hesitation. “Then I’m going to go get us a real dinner and bring it back. You’ve got a half hour.”

 

With that, she turned on her heel and strolled out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

 

He stared at the door, surprised that her exit had been so abrupt. Somehow, even with all their correspondence over the years, he wasn’t certain how to read her. He’d known better than to expect pity, but this was… odd.

 

Nevertheless, he’d take it.

 

He sat back on his bed, breathing deeply.

 

A half hour. He had a half hour to be done with his self wallowing, and then enough was enough.

 

It was time he confronted the past he’d been merely suppressing all these years. He was done letting his nightmares rule his days – his _and_ Noct’s days.

 

No more.

 

He wasn’t the child he had been when Loqi had snatched him in the garage beneath his apartment, and he was damn well going to stop acting like it.

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea sighed as she headed back to the hotel room she was now sharing with Specs. Wow, that was not where she thought she was going to be today.

 

Not that it wasn’t nice to meet up with him again – damn had he changed from that youthful, sharp-eyed nerd – but these circumstances sucked. Most of the changes she wasn’t going to complain about – those sharper cheekbones and more flattering glasses sure were nothing to gripe at – but Astrals did she hate that exhausted, cracked look behind his eyes. He’d always been the epitome of confidence and determination during the time she’d seen him in person, and his texts were never a letter out of place.

 

She wanted to see him back from that, for his sake. Back to the sarcastic pain in the ass that had earned her utmost respect faster than anyone else she’d ever met.

 

Well, she’d given him a little over thirty minutes to hopefully sort a couple of things out. That was all the time she could give right now, but hopefully it would help, even if just a little.

 

Reaching the door of their room, she took her time in opening the door, giving him advanced warning in case he needed it.

 

…Wow. Okay, so expecting to find him relaxing was actually pretty stupid in hindsight considering it was him, but she really hadn’t expected him to have his bed covered in the flyers for various hunts and for him to be studying them and jotting down notes. Clearly, he hadn’t stayed in the room the entire time she was gone.

 

He’d also taken a shower, if the steam in the room and his damp, un-styled hair were anything to go by. And the smell. Dear Astrals, it should have been illegal to smell that nice. The hell kind of soap did he use and did he actually pack that of all things when he’d left his friends?

 

Well. He was nothing if not prepared, she supposed.

 

“You’ve been busy.” She kicked the door shut and set the to-go boxes from the diner on the small table that was to one side of the room.

 

Ignis nodded, scribbling something in his book. “I thought I’d try to determine which of the available hunts would be best for us to undertake given their distance from here, payout, and presumed level of difficulty.”

 

Aranea moved over to him and glanced at the flyers. “I could handle any of these solo, let alone with you there too.”

 

“Of that I have no doubt.” He crossed out one of the hunts on the list. “I’m merely trying to gain us the most we can with the least amount of unneeded trouble.”

 

“Sounds like my kind of plan.”

 

Well, if he was still a mess, at least he was being a productive mess at the moment.

 

Absently, she wondered just how terrible it would be to lose a home like he just had. Hard to picture losing what she’d never had in the first place.

  


	13. The Captain

 

“Who’s a happy puppy? _Who’s a happy puppy?_ Aw, look at you – you’re so fluffy!”

 

The Princess shared an amused look with Nyx as Pelna cooed at her dog. Nyx shook his head fondly, picking up his pace a bit to walk at the front of their small group.

 

How Pelna managed to be one of the best Glaives to ever exist and simultaneously act like a five-year-old most of the time, Nyx would never understand. Though… Nyx couldn’t exactly blame him for trying to find something lighthearted to latch onto at the moment. After all, their friends had just died, their home had just been destroyed – their _second_ home, because the Empire had already destroyed the first one too – and now they were trudging through a forest in what was hopefully the right direction to civilization. If Pelna wanted to pet a fluffy dog, he was damn well welcome to it.

 

One thing was bothering Nyx, though – how the hell had the Princess’ dog found them out here? The Princess didn’t seem to find it odd at all when some goth lady had arrived with the dogs and then disappeared. The Princess had just petted the fluffy little beasts and then sent one of them along its way with a notebook attached to its back. It was beyond odd.

 

“This way.” The Princess pointed, branching away from them slightly.

 

Nyx frowned. “You sure?”

 

She nodded firmly. “Cauthess is this way.”

 

Nyx sighed. “Lead the way, Princess.”

 

A few minutes of silence passed as they kept walking. Nyx hated it. It made him think too much. Think back to every little interaction he could remember with the Glaives that had turned. Surely all of them hadn’t always been traitors? They couldn’t have been. He and the Marshal had been _relentless_ in screening the remaining Glaives for other possible traitors.

 

It had to have been the treaty. It had to. Maybe they had no intentions of turning until then. After all, he’d seen what it had done to Libertus.

 

Maybe he hadn’t missed the signs because there just weren’t any before.

 

Right. He could dream. If they were that willing to turn, he should have noticed how fragile their loyalty was before. There still had to have been signs for _that_.

 

“You know, as horrible as things are, it’s kind of nice out here,” Pelna noted. “I haven’t been out of the city much in the last few years. It’s weird to actually take a walk in nature without something trying to kill us.”

 

Nyx hit him with a glare. “If something tries to eat us now, that’s on you.”

 

“Hey, if something tries to eat us now, maybe we can eat it instead.”

 

“Hell no. _I_ don’t want to eat _my_ cooking, and I sure as hell am not letting you poison us with yours.”

 

“Fine, I guess we’ll just die of starvation.”

 

The Princess cleared her throat. “There are eatable plants under the trees up ahead, if anyone’s interested.”

 

Nyx wasn’t sure how the Princess knew whatever she knew about plants, but somehow he doubted the Oracle was going to poison them and herself, being the world’s greatest healer and all.

 

It was actually a great time for a break with the sun steadily raising the temperature. Unfortunately, though they now had a snack of sorts, they still had no water, and the shade of the tree they were under could only do so much.

 

They really needed to find an outpost or town soon.

 

“So, Your Highness…” Pelna tugged at his collar. “Where to after Cauthess? Also, would you happen to know if there is water near Cauthess? Maybe a glass of tea?”

 

Nyx started chewing on whatever the plant was as he took in the area around them. There were an odd amount of… broken trees in these parts. Almost like a tornado went through, but that didn’t quite fit somehow.

 

“I’m certain there’s an outpost between here and there.” The Princess didn’t seem fazed by his attitude at all. “The Disk is a well-used resource and popular for scenic pictures – there’s bound to be facilities within walking distance of it.”

 

Something else was off too. He could feel it. But what was it?

 

The Princess seemed to think that was the end of their conversation, looking back at her food.

 

Pelna sighed. “You really aren’t very chatty, are you?”

 

Nyx almost snorted. He found the Princess to be rather quiet too, but not like she didn’t have anything to say. She just made her every measured word count and was precise–

 

Quiet. It was too quiet. That’s what was wrong. This was a forest. They should have been hearing wildlife.

 

The hair on the back of Nyx’s neck tingled unpleasantly, like a dozen mosquitos sucking away at the skin there. If the wildlife wasn’t around, then why not?

 

Nyx swallowed as he gave the torn trees another look.

 

Maybe because something had scared them away.

 

“Let’s move,” Nyx said, knowing he was interrupting some discussion but not caring what it was.

 

“Huh?” Pelna stood up suddenly, eyes narrowed. “We just stopped – what’s wrong?”

 

“Not sure, but I don’t want to stick around to find out.” Nyx started walking. “Come on.”

 

Fortunately, it didn’t look like they were going to argue with him. They didn’t even try to grab more of whatever that plant was.

 

Nyx grasped his dagger’s hilt tightly, but didn’t take it from the sheath.

 

The ground rumbled.

 

“The hell is that?” Pelna muttered, his own daggers in hand instantly.

 

“Nothing good…” Nyx slowly pulled his dagger free, keeping his head on a consent swivel. “Something big…” He maneuvered so that he and Pelna had the Princess covered from both sides.

 

_Thud._

_Thud._

_Thud._

 

Those were footsteps. Really large footsteps. That were getting closer.

 

“Go. _Go,_ ” Nyx hissed, urging them on as fast as they could go without making too much noise. “We–”

 

Nyx flinched, his hands pressing to his ears instinctively as the roar of some beast nearly made his teeth rattle out of his skull. It was close. So close.

 

“Behemoth,” Pelna spat, though Nyx already knew.

 

Then the beast burst into sight, trampling the bushes in its path as it rushed them.

 

Pelna dived for the Princess, rolling them both out of the way as Nyx had to roll to opposite direction. He was closer, and the behemoth swiped at him with a massive claw. Nyx dodged, readying his daggers as he glanced from the beast’s sharp teeth to Pelna and the Princess.

 

“Get out of here! I’ll meet you in Cauthess!”

 

They both hesitated, but Pelna recovered quickly, his mouth setting into a firm line as he grasped the Princess’ arm and pulled her away.

 

Pelna really was a damned good soldier – someone Nyx was proud to call one of his men, but even prouder to call him his friend. His best friend, Nyx realized. With Libertus and Crowe gone, the two of them were all that was left of their group of friends.

 

…And if Nyx didn’t pull his head out of his ass and focus, Pelna was likely to be the only one of their friend group left alive.

 

Nyx ducked under another swipe of the beast’s claws, running the opposite direction of Pelna and the Princess. He just needed to buy them a little time. The Princess was stubborn, but she knew when to move, and she wasn’t stupid – they’d get far quickly.

 

Nyx moved swiftly, only daring to look over his shoulder in case the monster tried to cut him to pieces with its claws again.

 

He couldn’t keep this up. Not for a while. There was no way he could outrun legs that long.

 

He’d have to fight.

 

He dropped, sliding under the low branch of a large tree and readying himself.

 

The beast rammed into the tree, knocking it down with what seemed like the barest amount of effort.

 

_Weak on the right,_ he noted. The behemoth was missing a horn, and the eye on that side was milky and unseeing. It was half blind.

 

Nyx grinned.

 

_Sucks to be you, pal._

 

If he could take out that other eye, that was it – he could escape without it being able to follow him.

 

But how?

 

He dodged again.

 

Warping was no longer an option – something he’d relied heavily on since becoming a Glaive – and those teeth did _not_ look particularly inviting.

 

Time to get creative.

 

Nyx ran towards the behemoth, this time diving over its swiping claw, dragging his dagger across the flesh there as he passed over it. Any bit of damage might help.

 

…Or it might just piss the thing off.

 

Dammit.

 

Nyx fell back. There were half a dozen openings he couldn’t have used if he could warp, but as things were, he could see a way to get in close without getting slashed to pieces–

 

The fallen tree! If he could use it to get himself high enough…

 

Nyx bolted, vaulting himself onto a nearby boulder and jumping over to the tree, landing on the bark and barely regaining his balance in time to move as a paw slammed down just behind him.

 

Arms stretched wide as he darted up the narrow walkway, Nyx paced his steps. His timing had to be perfect, or this wouldn’t work.

 

And… _jump._

 

The tree gave out beneath the behemoth’s paw just as he was pushing off of it. Nyx’s leverage was shot, his jump far too low.

 

In that instant, Nyx threw out a desperate strike, jabbing his dagger fully into the animal’s side. It sank in, giving him a point to hang on, but that left him no hands to cover his ears from the howl the beast gave off.

 

Six, it was loud!

 

Nyx grimaced, dangling from the behemoth’s side. He couldn’t stay there, but his dagger was lodged in the monster’s flesh, and without it he was dead anyway–

 

Nyx gasped, feeling something snap as the behemoth smashed him into another tree.

 

On the bright side, the move had freed his dagger.

 

On the shit side of things, he’d definitely just broken a rib or two, and he’d just dropped to the ground so that the tree was still at his back.

 

His breaths turned rapid, shallow, not even half of what they should have been. Six, his ribs hurt too much to give him the air he needed…

 

The behemoth’s own breath invaded his nostrils, letting him literally taste death.

 

Death. No. Not like _this._

 

Nyx tried to push himself, pressing back against the tree and grappling at its surface to get himself to his feet. His other hand raised, giving him only the barest amount of protection against the beast as its face drew near.

 

It lunged, teeth trying to close on him.

 

Nyx threw himself to the side as best as he could in a last-ditch effort _to not die_.

 

If he’d thought his ribs had hurt, that had nothing on the horn that drove through him.

 

Nyx choked, his head flopping back against the tree he was now pinned to.

 

The physical pain was agonizing – a literal hole in his side – but retreating into his thoughts was almost worse.

 

Of course it would be there. Of course his death would be a wound in _that_ spot.

 

He remembered this pain. He’d felt it before – it had sliced through him with ease then, sliding past his bones. It was sharper then. A quick stab, then a cold dread as his life force pulsed out one beat of his heart at a time. Now it just burst _through_ him, breaking through everything in its path, and Nyx couldn’t even tell where he was bleeding from, specifically. Front, surely. Had it pierced through his back as well? Likely. Was that his rib _sticking out of his side?_ Probably.

 

Nyx couldn’t hear the behemoth’s roars or growls anymore. He couldn’t see the teeth struggling to tear into him.

 

A familiar smirking face leered at him through the haze.

 

“ _Predicable as ever._ ”

_“If it’s any consolation, this isn’t personal._ ”

 

Nyx gurgled around the warm, thick liquid crawling up the back of his throat and filling his mouth with the tang of copper syrup.

 

Drautos paced in front of him, his sword out and dripping blood from where it hung at his side.

 

“ _Some Captain you are – half your own men turned on you, and you abandoned what few were loyal to die back in the city when you ran away. You’re nothing without your tricks, Nyx Ulric. Whatever strength you had was on loan from the King. You are nothing without him._ ”

 

Nyx wasn’t sure how he found the strength, but he hurled his dagger at Drautos’ face.

 

_Screw you, asshole._

 

And then suddenly Nyx was flying through the air.

 

Huh? Weird. He shouldn’t have been able to warp…

 

His shoulder hit the ground, and he rolled, coming to a rest on his back.

 

Oh. He hadn’t warped. He’d hit the behemoth with his dagger throw, and it had hurled him when it recoiled with him still on its horn.

 

Either that or Drautos had kicked him.

 

…Nah. He was long dead.

 

Nyx would even take getting eaten over that more supposedly noble delusion as his end. This was better than Drautos getting the satisfaction.

 

The green of the leaves above him was blurred, turning dark.

 

Good. Maybe he’d be gone before the stupid animal started eating him. Though it seemed to be taking an awfully long him.

 

What was that banging?

 

What was that tan blob above him?

 

“Bloody ’ell! I don’t believe it!”

 

“He alive?”

 

“Not for long if we don’t ’urry the ’ell up! ’E needs…”

 

The voices faded out as Nyx’s eyes grew too heavy to keep open.

 

 

 

 


	14. The Trio

 

Fighting alongside Aranea was beyond what Ignis had imagined. Her lance work was unparalleled, and their fighting styles complimented each other splendidly, even without the years of practice together like he had with Noct and Gladio and Prompto.

 

Completing the hunts they selected was smooth sailing from start to finish.

 

“Someone’s been practicing the last few years,” Aranea called to him as he drove his lance downwards through the joints of the armor on the dualhorn he’d been fighting.

 

Pride flared within him. “I could say the same for you.” And it was true. He hadn’t seen her in open combat much before, but he _had_ seen enough to know her confidence was well earned, and she seemed to have only gotten more deadly over time.

 

She leaped high into the air, and he flipped back out of range as she landed with a blast of red power, killing their last foe.

 

Bloody hell was she a sight to behold. Quick, powerful, beautifu–

 

This was not relevant. This was not the reason he was here.

 

“Well, Specs, I’d say we’ve some decent chemistry here.”

 

…Fighting. She was talking about their level of synchronization in _fighting_.

 

Ignis cleared his throat. “Quite so. I suspect the MTs will be our greatest concern, should we get the drop on Loqi.” If he knew they were coming, he’d likely take to another of those larger Magitek armors like he did back at the base, but if they were cautious, they might be able to avoid facing another of those. Granted, he and Aranea would likely be able to handle one of those as well. She may not have been as experienced as the Marshal, but her fighting style suited that kind of foe well.

 

“Yeah, probably.” Her lance disappeared from her hand. “All we need now is for my contacts to get back to me–”

 

_Buzzz, chirp chirp chirp chirp._

 

“Well, speak of Ifrit.” Aranea pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered it. “What have you got for me?” Her expression twisted in surprise. “Whoa, whoa, what? _Biggs?_ What’s going on? What– slow down! Is Wedge okay? Good… You want me to come _there?_ _Now?_ Okay, fine, yeah, I’ll be there. Okay… Sure. Gimme a few hours.” She hung up the phone, frowning.

 

“Is something wrong?” Ignis asked as soon as she was done. She’d just told him they had set meeting places – Biggs asking her to meet spur of the moment didn’t bode well.

 

Aranea shook her head. “No idea, but Biggs was pretty set on my meeting up with him as soon as possible, so it must be pretty important.” She paused, looking up at him. “Look… I still gotta wait on that info from my contacts regardless. You can tag along with me to meet with them, or you can wait at the hotel. Your call.”

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow at her. She couldn’t honestly expect him to take that second option, could she?

 

She grinned. “Hey, just checking. Come on, then. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

 

“Dammit!” Noctis hissed, dropping his knife and yanking his hand back as the blade nicked his thumb. The knife hit the cutting board off balance and flipped off it and onto the ground, barely missing his foot by an inch.

 

Noctis growled, grasping his bleeding hand with the one that was still uninjured as he glared at the cutting board. Damn cucumber. He didn’t even like cucumbers, why did he have to injure himself cutting one up? Why couldn’t it have been, like, at least a banana or something? Bananas were good. But no, he had to cut himself because of a stupid vegetable.

 

Screw vegetables, screw cooking, screw camping, screw traveling, screw the Empire, and – above all else – screw Loqi. He was so tired of this shit–

 

“Whoa, Noct, are you okay?” Prompto nearly dropped his pan as he hastily set it aside and darted over to him.

 

“It’s fine,” Noct grumbled, turning away from him.

 

“But you’re bleeding–”

 

“I’m fine, Prompto!” Noctis snapped, sending a dirty look over his shoulder.

 

…Oh, Six. That _look_ on Prompto’s face. He felt like he’d just tortured a small animal. Great. Now he felt like an ass. Probably because he was being one. Well, so was Prompto, really. Seriously? A vegetable dish for his first meal for them all? Was he trying to make Noctis more miserable than he already was, forcing him to help make something he didn’t want to eat in the first place?

 

“I just wanted to be sure you were okay…” Prompto half crossed his arms, looking… sad and pathetic, honestly.

 

“Well, I’m fantastic, so you can go back to cooking your stupid salad-in-a-frying-pan thing, all right?” Wow. That was great. Why _not_ make it worse and make _everyone_ feel like total crap?

 

“Hey!” Gladio scowled, stalking closer to the cooking station from where he’d just finished setting up the tent. He zeroed in on Noctis with… disappointment in his eyes.

 

…Six, if that didn’t feel worse than being on the receiving end of Gladio’s anger. Usually it was because he’d slacked off in training or something and it wasn’t that big of a deal, but this was different.

 

“You wanna knock it off?” Gladio stared down at him. “Look, I ain’t sayin’ you don’t have a right to be pissed right now, but you don’t get to take it out on him.”

 

“It’s okay, Gladio,” Prompto said softly.

 

Noctis wanted to grab Prompto’s shoulder and yell at him to stand up for himself, but he knew he wouldn’t. Astrals knew why, but Prompto would take Noctis’ bitching all day and still show up the next with a smile on his face. And Noctis was treating him like this in return.

 

Noctis slumped. “No… It isn’t. I’m sorry.”

 

Prompto perked up a bit. “Hey, it’s all right, buddy.”

 

Noctis shook his head. “I’m… gonna turn in.” He headed for the tent, not caring that it wasn’t even dark yet. He wasn’t hungry for dinner anyway. Surprisingly, Gladio didn’t even protest.

 

Normally, Noctis could sleep over twelve hours if he wasn’t forced to get up, but tonight was not normal. It wasn’t even close to normal, and he couldn’t get to sleep to save his life.

 

Where was Ignis going to sleep? What was he going to do for food and supplies? He could have pulled from the Armiger, but he hadn’t – Noctis had checked and everything was still there. Ignis was probably being stupid and not using their supplies in case they needed them. But what if he needed a potion and didn’t use one because of that?

 

Noctis’ stomach rumbled and he growled in frustration, shoving off his sleeping bag covers and making his way outside the tent. He nicked a protein bar from their supplies and plopped near the edge of the haven, letting his feet dangle off the side.

 

The world felt like a blanket on a summer afternoon – stifling, miserable… laying over him with a hot, life-sucking weight. To think that just a couple days ago his biggest worry was that he’d make a fool of himself when he finally met Luna again. Now he’d managed to lose one of his closest friends and be an ass to the two he had left.

 

Noctis tore the wrapper off his protein bar, sinking his teeth into it viciously. Gah, these things were nasty. Cardboard and sawdust flavoring with the texture of wet paper. Bleh. He should have taken the vegetables Prompto fixed.

 

Behind him, he heard the tent rustle.

 

Probably Gladio. Great. Another lecture he didn’t need.

 

But Gladio didn’t come over to him right away – he was fiddling with something over by the kitchen station, which had been covered, but left out for the morning.

 

Gladio took his time, messing with something over there as Noct stared at the stars.

 

It was a nice clear night. Why couldn’t it have been a night like this before? Then Ignis would have been fine.

 

Gladio gave a deep sigh, slowly settling down by him. Something white was shoved into his chest. Noctis blinked at the Cup Noodles in Gladio’s hand.

 

He glanced at Gladio fully, confused.

 

Gladio prodded him with it again. “Those protein bars are garbage.”

 

Noctis accepted the peace offering. “Yeah… they are.” He chuckled faintly. “Cup Noodles past midnight – Specs would be thrilled.”

 

Gladio snorted. There was a pause before he spoke. “Hey, Noct?”

 

“Hm?” Noctis picked up the fork in the cup, stirring the noodles around.

 

“I know you and Specs have been really close the last few years, but you do know you can rely on me and Prompto too, right?”

 

Noctis paused his stirring. “I… of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

 

Gladio gave him a dry look.

 

“Oh, come on, Gladio.” The smell of the food was making his already growling stomach growl more, but the food itself was almost forgotten. “Just because Iggy and I were keeping this crap from you guys doesn’t mean I was totally cutting the two of you out.”

 

Gladio shook his head. “It may not have seemed that way to you, Noct, but to us… Look, we worked our asses off the last couple of years after what happened, especially Prompto. There were a couple of times I had to force him to go home because he’d worn himself out so much. It was like he applied Ignis’ workaholic ethic to training. He did that for you, and not because you’re a Prince either. We may have a duty to you, but we’re also your friends. So let us be there for you, huh? If you think we can’t see how much you’re bottling crap up right now…”

 

Noctis slumped, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “You’re right. I… haven’t been fair to you guys. Ignis and I… He was my first friend. He’s like my actual big brother. And… things are just different with him, especially the last couple of years. I never meant to cut you two out, there was just so much we had to deal with.”

 

Gladio huffed. “Yeah, I’m getting that now. Can’t believe I didn’t notice anything sooner.”

 

Noctis let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, don’t be too tough on yourself. It’s Ignis. You know how good he is at playing stoic, and he managed to keep things under wraps _really_ well. Even I didn’t pick up on some stuff until he told me about it.”

 

“He may be Iggy, but I’m _me._ I just can’t believe that he – that both of you – were struggling while we thought everything was fine. I… I thought I knew you guys better than that.” Gladio’s eyes spoke of his anger, but Noct knew that anger wasn’t directed at him. Gladio was mad at himself.

 

“We didn’t want you to know. We didn’t want _anyone_ to know…” That was the _point_. Why couldn’t Gladio see that?

 

Gladio slowly looked at him, the light from the haven’s runes lighting up his face but leaving him with a shadowy and serious stare. “Noct… is there anything about _you_ I should know?”

 

Noctis opened his mouth to dismiss those concerns with a joke when… he realized he couldn’t. He’d been living with his nightmares for so long he’d almost forgotten Gladio didn’t know about his latest ones. He didn’t even bring those up with Ignis after the fact. Maybe a phone call right after it happened in the middle of the night, but that was it. He preferred not to talk about them after that, and Iggy had respected that.

 

“I… um.” Noctis swallowed. “It doesn’t happen much, but sometimes I wake up screaming too.”

 

Gladio’s eyes widened, alarm and frustration showing in equal measure. “ _Noct._ ”

 

“It’s really not that bad anymore.” Noctis looked down at his noodles again, stirring more. “Nothing… serious like Iggy. I just get nightmares some nights.”

 

That didn’t seem to reassure Gladio much, if at all. “I thought those stopped years back?”

 

“ _Those_ did.” Noctis gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted to think about now was the marilith. “These are different.” Really different. His other ones had been about him being helpless as monsters closed in on him and people he loved – usually Luna and his dad. After the Loqi stuff, though… they’d taken to being more about him stabbing someone and their blood soaking his hands. Most of the time it was Drautos – his face as clear as it had been that night. On really bad nights it was someone else.

 

“Does anything help with them?”

 

Despite Prompto’s voice being soft, Noctis nearly dropped his Cup Noodles.

 

Damn his stupid hearing.

 

“How long have you been back there?” Noctis asked with a sigh.

 

“Ehhh, a while?” Prompto plopped down on the side not taken by Gladio. “Gladio’s right, you know, though.” Prompto punched Noctis’ shoulder lightly. “We’re here for you, buddy. And, uh, I’m sorry about dinner earlier. I thought it would make Iggy happy when we see him again if I told him I fixed healthy food.”

 

Noctis spluttered out a laugh. “Right.” He wanted to keep laughing. He didn’t want to think about all the possible scenarios that might happen where they’d never see Ignis again.

 

“So, Princess, out with it,” Gladio said. “Tell us what we can do to help.”  

 


	15. The Quintet

 

Ignis trailed his gloved hand through the feathers of the docile bird he was riding on, smiling faintly as it gave a soft chirp. It wasn’t difficult to see why Prompto held such an obsession with these lovable creatures. That said, he needed the bird to be a little less docile if they were to make it to the chocobo outpost before dark. Daemons would not be a welcome challenge at the moment.

 

“We aren’t far.” Aranea’s bird was trotting beside him at a steady pace.

 

Ignis’ lips twitched upwards. It amused him that Aranea had a feisty red chocobo while the one she’d gotten for him was quiet and grey. She must have done that on purpose because it was far too great a coincidence.

 

And she was correct – they made it to the outpost not long after with no daemon incidents. The sun’s last traces were still disappearing when they dismounted.

 

Aranea instantly pulled out her phone. “All right, where are you guys…”

 

Ignis hung back, retrieving a nearby leaf from a basket and letting his chocobo nip at it. After all, it had been a long ride. He didn’t want to run the poor thing to exhaustion.

“Lady A!”

 

Ignis glanced away from the bird. Biggs.

 

Goodness. Had Ignis passed him on a street, he might not have even recognized him. It appeared he was still favoring his white shirts, but gone was his more crisp… Imperial look, replaced by some frequently patched up hunter-type garb. There was no sign of his beloved hat either, and his face was far more weathered than Ignis remembered.

 

Ignis still hung back. Biggs hadn’t noticed him yet, but it was only a matter of time. It was hard to think of what to say. His memories of the last time he had seen Biggs were muddled at best, but he knew the gist of what had happened – Biggs had been shot when he stood up to Loqi in an attempt to protect Ignis. And then Ignis had woken up after getting shot himself to find that, though Biggs and Wedge _had_ been in custody, they’d apparently escaped and the King didn’t particularly care enough to put much effort into catching them again.

 

“Biggs.” Aranea grinned, walking up to him and slapping his shoulder. “Good to see you again so soon, though I wouldn’t mind knowing why.”

 

“Er, well…” Biggs scratched the back of his neck. “See, Wedge an’ I were on a hunt and we, uh, ran into an old friend. Sort of.”

 

Aranea arched an eyebrow. “Funny, so did I.” She smirked over her shoulder at Ignis.  

 

Well, then. That was his cue, he supposed.

 

Biggs’ gaze followed Aranea’s, and he frowned at Ignis for a moment. Ah. Ignis supposed he’d changed quite a bit as well.

 

Ignis gave his chocobo one last stroke down its neck before he dusted off his gloves, moving over to them. “Hello, Biggs. It’s been some while.”

 

Biggs blinked, realization and recognition setting in almost instantly. “Bloody ’ell! Ignis?”

 

“In the flesh,” Ignis replied simply.

 

“ _Ha!_ ” Biggs grabbed both of his shoulders, looking him over. “Well, look at you – all grown up and still fancy!”

 

Ignis swallowed his panic. It was fine. Biggs was fine. It was a friendly touch, not one meant to harm. “I was grown up before,” he said dryly.

 

Biggs shook his head. “Not to me, you weren’t.”

 

Aranea smacked Biggs on the back of his head. “Ignore him, Specs, he’s just an old man. Everyone’s a kid to him.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Ignis chuckled. “It truly is a relief to see you doing so well, Biggs.”

 

Biggs nodded. “Well, I can definitely say the same about you, considering last time we saw each other.”

 

Now was his chance. “Ah, yes… I never did get to properly thank you for what happened.”

 

Biggs snorted. “What ’appened was that I got myself shot.”

 

Aranea smacked him again. “Oh, quit being modest, it doesn’t suit you. You got shot standing up to that asshole and trying to protect someone.”

 

“And I’m eternally grateful to you for it,” Ignis added.

 

Biggs finally removed his hands from Ignis’ shoulders with a smile. “Aw, well, don’t mention it.”

 

Aranea cleared her throat. “All right, not that this reunion isn’t great, but you said something about running into an old friend?”

 

“Oh, yeah!” Biggs waved them towards the back of the shop where there was a small door.

 

Interesting. He’d expected them to go to the nearby caravan. If they were working as hunters, why would they be inside the back rooms of the shop?

 

“So, this guy – still don’t know his name, but I recognized ’im – was in a solo fight with this bloody huge behemoth when we found ’im. Like, next to dead. He had the thing’s bloody horn sticking through him.” He reached for the doorknob. “We got to ’im in time, but he was pretty out of it, so Wiz let us stick ’im in here to keep a closer eye on him.” He pushed open the door.

 

Ignis had to blink a few times to get his eyes to adjust to the lower lighting, and when they did he received a sight he was most definitely not expecting. Wedge was there like he anticipated, yes, but so was someone else – Nyx Ulric.

 

“ _Captain._ ” Ignis inhaled sharply, darting to the Glaive’s bedside and kneeling next to Wedge.

 

Wedge startled upon seeing him, but said nothing. Not surprising. He’d never been as chatty as Biggs.

 

“Captain?” Aranea said. “Huh. King made a good call with that promotion. Good to see he made it out of the city too.”

 

It _was_ good. Ignis could feel at least one point of the despair he’d been feeling ebb a bit. A _bit._ Ignis glanced the Captain over, taking note of the massive bruises that were covering half his torso. Ignis almost winced. It looked as if the wound had been healed over with a potion and cleaned, but it was still a borderline gruesome sight, especially since none of it was hidden with his shirt off.

 

“He hasn’t woken yet,” Wedge said, apparently shelving the reunion talk of his own for later – or never. “We thought we’d wait on Lady A since she saved his life. Figured he’d react better.”

 

“Well, now we’ve got someone ’e knows even better.” Biggs hung back.

 

“Captain?” Despite already knowing he was alive, Ignis checked the man’s pulse point instinctively. He then recalled the man’s preference not to be called by his title. “Nyx?” He leaned over further, checking Nyx’s other side to make sure there weren’t any further injuries on that side.

 

Nyx’s breathing pattern shifted, and Ignis moved back to give him some space. He of all people knew what it was like to have others hovering around after a trauma, and it wasn’t ideal–

 

Ignis fell back, his face blaring pain signals seemingly directly through his skull as Nyx followed his wild punch up by launching himself on top of Ignis and going for his throat. Muscle memory and instinct had Ignis automatically blocking the grappling hands and rolling, forcing the Glaive off of him and onto floor. Ignis kept his momentum going, using it to end up atop of the Glaive in a reversal of their previous positions as he tried to pin him down.

 

“Whoa, okay!” Aranea was poised, ready to jump in.

 

“Don’t!” Ignis dodged an elbow that almost struck his jaw. “Nyx! Bloody hell, man, come to your senses and wake fully! You’re among comrades!”

 

Nyx’s struggles ceased somewhat, his eyes regaining clarity over the next few seconds. “…Scientia? The hell?”

 

Ignis touched the left cheekbone gently. At least it didn’t appear to be broken. “Good to have you back with us.”

 

Nyx groaned, his face twisted in a grimace as he glanced down.

 

“Ah, apologies.” Ignis stood, removing himself from where he was practically sitting on the man’s damaged ribs. He offered him a hand up.

 

Nyx took the hand, looking even further disoriented once he spotted who else was in the room with them. “Okay…” He staggered over to the bed, all but collapsing back onto it. “It’s damn good to see you, Scientia, but I’m waiting for this to make some sort of sense.”

 

“Well, basically, Wedge and I found you acting as a pin cushion for the behemoth we were hunting,” Biggs said simply. “We brought you ’ere and called Lady A, and she ended up bringing Iggs with her… somehow. We ’aven’t had that one explained to us either.”

 

Nyx sharply turned to Ignis, as if just thinking of something. “Prince Noctis?”

 

“He’s well,” Ignis assured. “With Gladio and Prompto and the Marshal when I last saw them.”

 

Nyx visibly relaxed. “Good… The Princess is safe too, as far as I know.”

 

Now, _that_ was another welcome bit of news. “Lady Lunafreya?”

 

Nyx nodded. “Pelna and I got her out of the city. He should still be with her.”

 

Thank the Six. Pelna was an excellent soldier. Noct would be so relieved, though Ignis was at a loss as to why she was in the city in the first place when she and Noct were supposed to meet in Altissia. The Empire’s doing, perhaps?

 

Ignis’ hand hovered over his pocket with his phone in it. He’d honestly been hoping to avoid all contact with Noct and Prompto and Gladio until he’d been able to better… resolve things, but Noct needed to know about Lunafreya, not to mention Nyx and Pelna. Knowing that the three of them were alive would no doubt be a great bit of consolation that Noct could direly use at this point.

 

Then again… the message didn’t have to come from _him._

 

“Aranea, might I ask a favor?”

 

“Name it,” she said instantly. “I kind of owe you for all of time since I kidnapped you.”

 

Ignis chuckled shortly, the sound not lasting with the sullenness of his thoughts. To think he’d gotten to the point where he couldn’t even speak with Noct without it causing them both more pain…

 

He licked his lips, already knowing this was going to raise questions from Nyx. “Would you be willing to call Noct and let him know that Lunafreya and Nyx and Pelna made it out of the city?”

 

She didn’t give him any odd looks. Just a simple nod. “You got it. Anything else?”

 

Nyx was frowning at Ignis and didn’t take his eyes off him as he spoke. “Yeah, tell him the two of them were heading for Cauthess.”

 

Ignis tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed the stare drilling into him.

 

Aranea pulled out her phone, clicking through the contacts. “Any reminders to eat his vegetables?”

 

“No.” This was going to make things worse. “Best he not know I’m with you at all, if possible.” Granted it might be too late for that. Noct wasn’t stupid. After all, Ignis had held that conversion on the pier with him less than half a week ago. “He likely already suspects, but if you can avoid confirming that I’m with you, I’d appreciate it.”

 

“Sure thing.” And no hesitation from her.

 

Nyx’s frown deepened, faltering only when he hissed and shifted, hand hovering over his side once more. It was then that Ignis noticed Biggs and Wedge eying him in confusion also. Well, they would have to keep wondering. An explanation to Nyx might be in order, but not one to Biggs and Wedge, even if Ignis was fond of them. His business was his own, and he doubted they’d try to push him on the topic.

 

“All right.” Aranea looked up from the phone, heading for the door. “I’ll make the call.”

 

There was a moment of silence when the door shut behind her.

 

Nyx arched an eyebrow. “Okay, you know I’m gonna ask.”

 

Yes… yes he did. Ignis sighed, glancing at Biggs and then Wedge. “A moment of privacy?”

 

“…Right.”

 

“Sure…”

 

They headed out the door as well.

 

Nyx pushed himself back on the bed, crossing his legs. “I’ve seen firsthand how loyal you are to the Prince. The hell is going on with you?”

 

Telling someone when it was actually his choice to do so – this was almost refreshing.

 

Almost.

 


	16. The Conversations

“ _Hello?_ ”

 

Aranea almost snorted. She hadn’t realized it was possible to load that much loathing, dismay, and confusion into one word. Obviously, she’d woken Prince Pretty Boy up with her call, not that that was particularly surprising considering the time. She’d heard all too well about his habits from Specs over the years. Honestly, she was a little surprised he’d even woken up at all. He must have either had the volume up really loud, or one of the others had prodded him when it had woken _them_ up. Neither seemed too unlikely.

 

“Did I interrupt any good dreams, Runaway Royalty?”

 

“ _…Who… Who is this?_ ”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes, starting to pace in front of one of the chocobo pens. Someone in the Crownsguard should have given him some training on how to wake up. “Check the caller ID, Pretty Boy. Obviously I’m not Blondie, but that should narrow things down for you.”

 

“ _Aranea?_ ”

 

She jerked the phone away from her ear. There was some rustling on the other end of the line, probably him scrambling out from wherever he was sleeping. “Geez, Pretty Boy. You trying to get revenge on me by making me go deaf in one ear too?”

 

“ _I… What’s going on? Why are you calling? Is it about Ignis? Is he–_ ”

 

“Slow it down, Pretty Boy.” She waved Biggs off as he sent her a questioning glance and mimicked someone eating. “I’m not calling about Specs.”

 

“ _…Oh. Then… what else are you calling about?_ ”

 

“Your girlfriend and your jumpy Captain.”

 

“ _Luna and Nyx?_ ”

 

“Yeah, and some other guy named Pelna.” She stopped her pacing to avoid tripping over a baby chocobo. “I know things have gone to hell pretty quick for you, so I thought you might like to know those three are alive.”

 

Noctis sucked in a breath. “ _You serious?_ ”

 

“A hundred percent.” The bird gave a soft kweh as she pet its head. “Biggs and Wedge found your Captain in pretty bad shape, but he’s awake and recovering well. He said he and the other Glaive escorted the Princess out of the city before he was separated from them.”

 

She moved the phone away from her ear for a moment again when Noctis gave a loud cry of, “ _Oh, hell yes!_ ”

 

She cracked a grin. She’d only ever really seen the kid when he was in some awful situation. It was nice to hear him not sounding in pain or traumatized for once.

 

“ _Have you told Ignis?_ ”

 

There it was. She’d known that was coming. “Kid, what makes you think I’ve kept in contact with him in the first place?”

 

“ _…Oh, come on, Aranea. I’m not stupid. And he told me how you two have been messaging all this time. Where else would he go if not to you? He doesn’t know anyone else out here who isn’t from Insomnia, and he didn’t take enough of our funds to be chilling in a hotel somewhere. Is he with you and telling you to play dumb?_ ”

 

…Well, this wasn’t going as planned. Specs had failed to mention that Noctis knew that much about their communication. “Look, Noct–”

 

“ _He told you to call me, didn’t he?_ ”

 

Aranea sighed. “I neither confirm nor deny that.”

 

The kid growled. Actually growled. “ _Okay, you know what? Tell him that if he doesn’t own up, I’m going to start spilling what we talked about on the pier a few nights ago._ ”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. The King of Insomnia was sounding like a five-year-old making demands on a playground. “ _He’s not in the room with me._ ” There. That was true. He was in the room with the Captain, and she wasn’t in a room at all.

 

“ _But he is with you in general._ ”

 

“I didn’t say that.”

 

“ _You didn’t not say it._ ”

 

Aranea sighed again. “Look, kid, I just called to let you know about your people, okay? Stop making me regret it.”

 

“ _…Fine. And… thanks._ ”

 

“No sweat.”

 

“ _…Any chance I could talk to Nyx?_ ”

 

Aranea glanced back at the door. Those two must have still been talking. “How about in the morning? He got impaled earlier, so I’d say he needs some rest.”

 

“ _Impaled? How the hell did he make it out of the city after being impaled?_ ”

 

“Because he’s a tough son of a bitch, that’s how.” A tough son of a bitch that was making a habit of getting impaled. “I’ll let him fill you in on the details later. Sound good?”

 

“ _Yeah… Fine. Sounds great._ ”

 

“Good.”

* * *

 

 

This was one of the most miserable and awkward experiences of Ignis’ life. And considering his life the past few days, that was truly saying something.

 

Ulric listened to him without a word. Ignis almost felt like he was talking to a wall, except the wall was staring at him and likely silently judging him. Ignis wished a behemoth would swallow _him_ at the moment. No one but Noct and Aranea had known before, and now it seemed as though everyone was finding out.

 

“So, you left Prince Noctis to protect him.” Nyx nodded. “Good call.”

 

Ignis tilted his head, surprised. Nyx’s tone was so… nonchalant.

 

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “What? You think your problems are so rare that no one’s going to understand?” He grinned dryly. “I wish.”  

 

…What? Did he mean…? “You?” Nyx Ulric? The Kingsglaive’s hero? Their Captain?

 

Nyx nodded. “Yeah. Me.”

 

Well, this was certainly unexpected. “The Tummelt Affair?”

 

Nyx snorted. “Well, that sure as hell didn’t help, but no. Goes a lot further back than that – Galahd.”

 

Ah. No wonder Nyx had always been so loyal if the Empire’s attack on his home had caused him so much pain. “I see… Well, thank you for confiding in me with that personal information.”

 

Nyx shrugged. “You went first. Seemed only fair. Besides, it’s good to have at least one person or two that knows what you’re going through so they can look out for you if anything goes wrong.”

 

It was hard to imagine the cocky yet wise Glaive speaking in detail about his own issues with his closest friends since they were Glaives as well. “I’ll admit I’m rather surprised you’d confide in your subordinates with a matter such as this.” Then again, if they’d known prior to his promotion, that would make much more sense. It wasn’t as though he could take such a thing back.

 

Nyx cleared his throat. “…Yeah, about that…”

 

Oh. “No one in the Glaive knows?” Who else did Ulric trust that highly?

 

“Look, I said it was a good idea. I never said I was smart enough to do it.”

 

…Sweet Shiva. He and the Captain had more in common than Ignis ever would have guessed possible.

 

Both of them glanced towards the door as there was a knock from the other side.

 

“Oi, you two want anythin’ to eat?”

 

“Hell yes.” Nyx started to push himself off of the bed. “I don’t even remember the last time I ate a real meal.” Ignis offered him a helping hand, which Nyx took with a wince. “So, you told me why you left the Prince… Why’d you decide to meet up with your former kidnapper of all people? You two planning something?”

 

“Quite so.” Ignis hovered close to the Glaive in case his wobbling legs decided to give out as he trudged towards the door.

 

“Does it involve kicking the ass of our least favorite Imperial?” His voice turned tight, though whether it was from pain or anger, Ignis couldn’t say.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Then count me in.”

 

Ignis frowned. He was volunteering to help take out Loqi and not be where Noct was so he could join him? “You sound as though things have become rather personal concerning him.”

 

Nyx didn’t answer that, but the hard look on his face was confirmation enough.

 

* * *

 

 

“Noct?” Gladio pushed aside the tent door, frowning. “All right, I was expecting to have to take care of a lot of things I don’t normally have to, but I didn’t think I’d have to remind _you_ to _sleep._ ”

 

Noctis slipped his phone back into his pocket. Yeah, he was going to regret existing tomorrow morning after going to bed late and having to get up in the middle of the night, but both of those had been kind of important.

 

Noctis took a breath, suddenly glad they were camping instead of in a hotel as he yelled, ” _Yes!_ ” He punched the air, laughing.

 

“…Has he lost it?” Prompto poked his head out sleepily.

 

Noctis spun to face them fully. “Luna, Nyx, and Pelna are all alive!”

 

“ _What?_ ” Prompto perked up, managing to run the top of his skull into Gladio’s chin. “Ow! Sorry, big guy.”

 

Gladio rubbed his jaw, waving Prompto off and stepping outside the tent. “Cor made contact with them?”

 

“Eh.” Noctis scratched the back of his head. Oh boy. How to explain this one? They’d kind of agreed to stop keeping secrets from each other. “Um, no.” He braced himself. “It was Aranea Highwind, actually…”

 

Prompto looked lost as he staggered back out of the tent as well.

 

Gladio blinked twice. “Aranea Highwind… As in the Imperial who kidnapped you and Ignis… That Aranea Highwind?”

 

“No.” Noctis crossed his arms. “As in the mercenary that took me and Ignis’ side and helped save our lives when we were kidnapped. _That_ Aranea Highwind.”

 

Gladio sighed. “Right. Okay, I’m gonna ask – how the hell did she get your number?”

 

Noctis thought about what his phone had said when the name flashed on screen. “Well, she grabbed Prompto’s phone that I lost and still has it, so…”

 

“ _What?_ That phone’s, like, intact?” Prompto threw his arms in the air. “Dude! Do you know how many photos I had on that thing that weren’t backed up? Text her and tell her to send them!”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Fine, sure, later.”

 

“Holy…” Gladio sucked in a breath, his eyes lighting up with understanding. “Is she the one that called Ignis about the attack on the city?”

 

“Mh-hm. Yeah.”

 

Gladio scowled again. “What are you guys, like, secret texting pals?”

 

Noctis crossed his arms. “Well… she and _I_ aren’t…” And that was all they were getting on that. There was no way Gladio was getting him to admit about Ignis’ crush. He’d said no more secrets, yeah, but that was different. Like how he hadn’t told them about what exactly Ignis had gone through just because that wasn’t his secret to tell, and they were okay with that.

 

…Though, now that he was thinking about it, it seemed kind of dumb that he was ranking Ignis’ crush on a girl up there with the cause of his PTSD in level of privacy, but… well, Ignis was Ignis. That kind of stuff just was that personal to him.

 

“I’m, like, not even surprised.” Prompto plopped into the closest camp chair.

 

“Why, because Ignis is the only guy weird enough to keep a girl’s number after something like that?” Gladio asked.

 

“Uh, well, no, but I can’t really deny that either…”

 

“What do you mean, then?” Noctis sank into his own usual chair. Six, he was tired.

 

“I mean he took a bullet for her?” Prompto pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but that was heat of the moment.” Gladio stayed standing. “Purposefully messaging someone for years requires a bit more conscious effort.”

 

Noct shook his head. “Look, man, I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t even know they were in contact until the night we were in Galdin.”

 

“Whoa!” Prompto sat up straighter. “You mean he actually does keep stuff from you too?”

 

“Eh, I think it was just more of it not coming up. It’s not like he was hiding it.”

 

“Oh…” Prompto sank back into his chair, actually seeming disappointed. “Gotcha…”

 

Noctis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Filling these gaps was going to be harder than he’d thought it was when they’d talked just a few hours ago. He might have been sharing things more with them, but without Ignis there…

 

His absence was a void, and no amount of talking with the two of them – or amount of good news – was going to be able to fix it until their group was whole again.

 

…Aranea would have to cave and tell them where she was _sometime,_ and Noctis was almost positive that Ignis was with her.

 

Maybe he could ask Nyx when he talked to him in the morning.

 

…Maybe he would _order_ Nyx if he needed to.

 

Somehow, he _would_ find out.

 

 


	17. The Reasoning

 

It was beautiful out here, Ignis mused, sitting cross-legged in the grass a small ways from the post. Given how close he still was to civilization and how little time there was until the sun rose, daemons were unlikely to bother him, so he was taking this moment of relaxation for himself. He hadn’t had time to truly appreciate this spectacular world outside the city before – not with the peace treaty and Nocts marriage hanging overhead and then the news of Insomnia’s fall. Not that he could truly relax with the even more chaotic circumstances that currently surrounded him, but he had no responsibilities at the moment. He was free to sit here and take in the breathtaking view of the Disk of Cauthess until the others awoke.

 

…It was odd. He felt as though he needed to go do _something_ , whether it was cooking or sewing or devising a strategy or making travel plans… But he didn’t need to do any of that currently. The outpost’s owner offered free breakfasts, the only clothes that needed sewing were beyond hope of repair, and he couldn’t come up with a strategy or travel arrangements until Aranea’s contacts got back to her and they actually knew where to go.

 

How was he to spend his time?

 

_Use it to focus on getting better, dipstick,_ said a voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Noct. _That’s the reason you left in the first place._

 

Get better. Get… better… So much easier said than done. But… well, he was at a chocobo farm and had no duties. It was an apt environment.

 

“You’re up early.”

 

Ignis found it somewhat strange that he didn’t mind Aranea’s voice cutting through his thoughts. Perhaps he was glad she was disturbing his circular thought train. Perhaps he didn’t mind just because it was her.

 

She smiled slightly as she took a seat next to him. “Mind if I butt in on you mulling over the world’s problems?”

 

“Not at all.” He resisted the urge to shift under her observant gaze. “What is it?”

 

She shook her head, amused. “Nothing. Just trying to get used to this new look of yours. Were you inspired by a chocobo, or what?”

 

Ignis sighed with deep exaggeration. This again.

 

She laughed. “I take it I’m not the first to razz you about this?”

 

“With the group of friends I associate with? Heavens no. The topic of my hair doesn’t grow old for a near month when I change it.”

 

She shook her head, fondness clearly written on her face. “You know, with all the stories you tell me, I almost feel like I know them already. Gonna be interesting to see how my expectations compare when I do get to meet them.”

 

Ignis hummed. “Well, I’m certain they won’t fall short when the time comes.”

 

“So, is that part of the plan?” She plucked a blade of grass from the ground and started toying with it, peeling little strands off the sides. “Kill Loqi and then go back to them?”

 

A frown pulled at Ignis’ brow. “You sound as though you don’t approve.” Of all people, he expected her to agree with him on Loqi needing disposing of.

 

“Oh, I approve of getting rid of that piece of garbage. No doubt about that.” Aranea looked up from the grass to meet his gaze. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

 

Of course she was. Ignis felt shame well up within him. Any logical person would have been.

 

Aranea rolled her eyes, smacking him on the back of the head suddenly. “Not like that, you idiot. Come on, I’ve seen you in more than stressful circumstances. Even with this crap going on, I don’t doubt you when it comes to combat. I mean for afterwards. I just… I hope you aren’t expecting killing him to fix everything you’re going through.”

 

Ignis rubbed the back of his head. Bloody hell. He’d hate to be on her receiving end if she was actually angry. “Of course not. Did I not already say as much back when we met at the Crow’s Nest?”

 

“Well, yeah.” She threw her peice of grass away and plucked up another. “But you could be having an inner debate about it or still expecting it subconsciously for all I know.”

 

“And what if I am?” He wasn’t, but hypothetically, he was curious what her answer would be to this. “What do you suggest I do about my subconscious hopeless hope?”

 

She rolled her eyes again. “It’s your subconscious, dumbass. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything about it.” She threw that blade of grass away as well. “Look, what I was getting at here… If the time comes and you think you’re still not ready to go back and join your pals, I just want you to know that you’re always welcome with us.”

 

Ignis blinked slowly. That had… not been where he’d been expecting this conversion to lead.

 

She shrugged at his blank look. “What? I know we don’t exactly have the best living conditions either, and we tend to split up for long periods of time, but it sure as hell would be better than wandering out in the wilderness on your own. Not like you’ve got a lot of options outside the city. All three of us still have contacts within the Empire. You could even keep helping out with fighting the Empire, it would just be with different people. A different tactic, if you want.”

 

Ignis truly didn’t know what to say. Was she saying she wanted him around? Or was this a pity gesture? Or… perhaps even a guilt gesture from the part she played in prior events?

 

“ _Ow._ ” He scooted away from her this time after she hit him on the back of the head again.

 

“Stop overthinking everything,” she ordered, and Ignis wondered for a moment if perhaps she’d been an offshoot of a royal line at one time herself with all the commanding presence she held. “I can see you thinking way too hard about everything I say. Do me a favor and stop belittling me by trying to figure out if I have an ulterior motive, would you?”

 

“Perhaps I will if you’ll stop hitting me,” he grumbled.

 

“Well, someone needs to knock some sense into you now that you and Prince Pretty Boy aren’t around each other to balance one another out.”

 

…A fair point. He rather hoped Gladio was taking care of that on Noct’s end. Not that they both couldn’t function without each other at all, but they had become so closely connected the last few years that Ignis suspected there would be some ramifications from them splitting up for a while. Fortunately, neither of them was without other friends, at least.

 

“Now I can’t deny the truth of that, I suppose. However, if you intend to keep knocking me upside the head, I might need to borrow Nyx’s head protection visor.”

 

Instead of her laughing, Aranea’s brow pulled together. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. With Loqi about, it might be good to keep your face hidden if we have to fight Imperials.”

 

Ignis hesitated. “Aranea… I know I came to you, and I’m truly grateful for your offer just now, but are you absolutely certain you wish to pursue this path with me? You’ve been able to evade the Empire for so long, it might be wise not to remind them that you’re still around.”

 

Aranea snorted. “Oh, please. Have you ever known me to hide and play things safe? Besides, Loqi’s running a lot of things right now, and somehow I doubt he’s forgotten about me. Even if I stayed out of things, he’d be after me eventually.”

 

Something about those statements struck Ignis as off.

 

_Loqi’s running a lot of things right now._

 

That couldn’t be right, could it? Surely not. “What do you mean when you say Loqi is running things?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Aranea dug her phone out of her pocket. “No location yet, but a couple of my contacts have confirmed that he’s managed to worm his way into keeping his old rank and is heading up some of the key operations the Empire is launching currently. Now, I don’t know what those missions are because they’re classified, but, well, if they’re classified, it’s gotta be for a reason.”

 

Ignis’ scowl deepened. “He was imprisoned for years after a failed mission and we defeated him again last time we met – how could he have possibly regained the Empire’s full trust so quickly?”

 

“Ha.” Aranea scrolled on her phone. “I’d been wondering that too. He wasn’t even good at his job before he failed the mission, and the Empire’s not exactly in desperate need of leaders right now… They’re more powerful than they’ve ever been. Why bother with him at all at this point? In my day at the Empire, they would have had him executed, or discharged, or something. Not _promoted._ ”

 

Ignis crossed his arms partially, resting his elbow on his wrist and his chin on his knuckles. “He must have done something particularly pleasing to the Empire to be awarded this kind of treatment.”

 

“Yeah, you mean he probably killed someone important that they hated a lot,” Aranea said dryly and not without a bitter edge to her tone. “Probably someone nice like an orphan adopter…”

 

Dread made his stomach turn again. Someone of an extremely high status, most likely. Surely it couldn’t have been… “Aranea… Do you happen to know how King Regis was killed?”

 

“It wasn’t him,” she assured instantly. “That much I know. There are some weird rumors and stories floating around how the King was killed. Not something Loqi could have done.”

 

What could she mean by that? “That’s rather cryptic.”

 

She shrugged again. “Like I said, just rumors and stories, but there’s enough of them and other reports for me to know it wasn’t Loqi. Come on, that dumbass able to take down one of the most powerful and experienced men on the planet?”

 

Another point he’d concede. Regis could have taken Loqi down blind and one-armed. But that still left questions. What had Loqi done in the Crown City that seemed to have erased all his past slipups? And who had been able to take down not only King Regis, but Clarus and the number of Crownsguards and Glaive that had to have been around him? What were these stories and rumors Aranea had just mentioned?

 

“Would you mind telling me more about those rumors?” Somehow, he got the feeling she was avoiding giving him details intentionally.

 

“I wouldn’t, but given all the mixed versions I’ve gotten, you might get a better report from your Glaive pal when he wakes up. If he was with the Princess and she somehow got the Ring, he might know more. In fact…” She pushed off the ground, offering him a hand. “He and Pretty Boy are supposed to have a call this morning – it might come up then. Just because you don’t want your friends knowing you’re here doesn’t mean you can’t listen in.”

 

Ignis took the offered hand. “Indeed.” That sounded agreeable. As agreeable as it could, that was. Ignis truly did and didn’t want to hear how his secondary father figure had been murdered. Human curiosity was dreadful at times.

 

The words kept swimming around in his head. Rumors and stories. He might expect that from Lucians speculating on their King’s death, but the Empire? Shouldn’t they have been parading King Regis’ death around and celebrating it? The Empire was rather keen on gloating when they could and if not to the public, then at least to their own. The fact that those in the Imperial military ranks didn’t know the facts was just plain odd.

 

Why keep it a secret? Was it just to cover the fact that they’d lost the Ring? But they could have easily lied about that. Omitting facts was also something they did rather well, but why not just cut the tale to fit their purpose, then?

 

What were they trying to keep hidden from even their own?

 


	18. The Awkwardness

 

Nyx did not like lying to his King, even if the twenty-year-old had only been his King for a day or two. He wouldn’t have liked lying to _Prince_ Noctis if King Regis had ordered it, but he would have done it. This, though… He _especially_ didn’t like lying to King Noctis and having to do it while Scientia was staring at him from the other side of the outdoor table they were eating at.

 

This was fourteen different types of awkward. Scientia looked close to bursting a blood vessel. He wasn’t even blinking. Yet the other three at the table didn’t even seem to be paying attention. Well, Nyx knew they were, but they were doing a good job looking like they weren’t as they inhaled their food.

 

It was ridiculous how easily Scientia’s cooking reduced people to rabid animals.

 

Wow, he was getting very distracted.

 

“ _You sure about this, Nyx?_ ”

 

Nyx blinked, trying to ignore Scientia’s gaze in particular. He’d actually done fine so far, and he didn’t plan on slipping up now. “Is there a problem, Highness?” He kicked himself mentally. That should be Majesty now. Or… should it? Would Prince– _King_ Noctis want to be called by his father’s title so soon? Or was that salt in the wound? Given the time he’d spent with Noctis personally, Nyx was guessing the latter. He’d hold off on the new title for now.

 

“ _Just… you heading off to assassinate Loqi?_ ”

 

Nyx frowned. He’d thought everyone still alive on their side would want Loqi dead as soon as possible–

 

“ _Without any magic?_ ”

 

Oh. Right. Yeah, that was a valid concern considering the last fight he’d been in, he’d gotten skewered. “It’s a risk, Highness, I’ll admit that, but I’d say it’s well worth it. I’ve got Highwind and her men with me – that’ll help.” Not to mention Scientia’s magic.

 

“Besides… It’s not like I’d be much use to _you_ without magic. A stealth operation is less risky for me than open combat right now.”

 

“ _…Fine_.”

 

“ _But only after you heal up!_ ” Prompto yelled from what sounded like a couple feet farther from the phone.

 

“ _Yeah, what he said,_ ” the young King agreed. He raised his voice, causing Nyx to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. “ _You got that, Aranea? Don’t let him be a dumbass and run into things he isn’t ready for!_ ”

 

“Sure thing,” Aranea returned easily, her focus still seeming mostly on her food. How long had it been since those three had eaten anything that wasn’t fast food or lackluster camp fixings?

 

Things he wasn’t ready for. What a joke. None of them were ready for this. He and Scientia should have been helping the Marshal or something. Or should they have even been doing that? Sweet Shiva, they were going to get themselves killed… They had so many issues at the moment. There was a reason there were counselors available for the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive, but apparently he and Scientia were just too stupid to take the offered help. Why were they so stupid? Of course, now that opportunity was no longer available. Highwind wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and listen to them talk about their issues. Hell, given her demeanor, Nyx wouldn’t have been surprised if her advice was ‘buck up and get over it’ to him, but he doubted she’d be that harsh to Scientia. Or maybe she would. He wasn’t actually sure. She was difficult to get a read on when his brain _wasn’t_ fried.

 

…Meaning his brain was going to be fried pretty much any time he was around her because she was a constant reminder of that night, and the sharp pain in his side as blood bubbled into his lungs, making him choke and–

 

Nyx blinked. Nope. Away from that. Time to think about anything _but_ that.

 

“Don’t worry, Highness. I know my limits. This is just another mission. I’ve had plenty like it before. I’ll manage.”

 

He _had_ to manage. He and Scientia both did.

 

…Oh, this was going to be great fun for Highwind and her crew, dragging Nyx and Scientia along and babysitting them. He was sure they were going to appreciate that.

 

And maybe somewhere along the lines he could find a way to thank Highwind for saving his life without it being completely awkward.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis hung up the phone with a frown. It was great to hear Nyx alive and well and all, but Noctis kind of wanted him to _stay_ that way. “I don’t like this…” he muttered as he set the phone in the cup holder of the camp chair he was sitting in.

 

Gladio stood up, having been crouched beside the chair in order to hear the conversation. “Well, you didn’t have to approve it. He gave you plenty of opportunities to order him not to. You could have sent him to Cor instead.”

 

Noctis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and then rubbing his eyes. “No, I think it’s a good idea, I just…” He licked his lips. Okay. Start over. “Loqi needs to be stopped. And Aranea and Nyx sound like a great team to do that, but… Now Nyx doesn’t have his magic and… I’m like… eighty percent sure Ignis is with them.”

 

Gladio swore. “Been wondering about that myself, too. Was really hoping I was wrong…”

 

Prompto wandered over to his chair and sank into it, hands in his lap and looking small. “He’s not gonna stay out of things at all, is he?”

 

“Well, we don’t actually know for sure that he hasn’t,” Gladio noted.

 

Noctis snorted. “Who are we kidding? This is Ignis. Even if he isn’t with them, he’s out doing something he thinks well help.” He shoved to his feet, kicking a nearby rock so hard that it sailed off of the haven and into the grass somewhere. “At least if he’d stayed we could have kept an eye on him!”

 

“Which would have put you at more risk,” Gladio pointed out.

 

That did not make Noctis feel better.

 

He hated this. _Hate, hate, hated_ it, damn it! How many people were gonna be killed, hurt, or inconvenienced just to help him?

 

“Don’t make that face,” Gladio scolded. “There’s nothing we can do about it now, other than keep going and do what we need to do.”

 

“Yeah…” He knew that. He really did. Everyone who had done so much for him… They’d want him to keep going. So that’s what he’d do. Keep going and pray Ignis was staying safe and not being an idiot.

 

* * *

 

 

He was an idiot, Ignis realized.

 

Maybe this was a good plan, contacting Aranea and undertaking this task with her and her men, but he certainly hadn’t taken into account Nyx showing up and the atrocious amount of awkward silence that was smothering their group like a warm wet blanket on a hot day. He had very much overestimated his ability to play this waiting game.

Where had all his self-control gone? He dreaded to think how much worse it was going to get when they finished eating.

 

He didn’t have much of an appetite himself, and Nyx appeared to be around the same, but the other three of them that were crowded around the small table seemed to be enjoying his meal. Ignis might have felt guilty about fixing a meal and eating it at the restaurant’s table, but the ingredients had come from the store itself and the behemoth Biggs and Wedge – and he supposed Nyx – had taken down. Plus, they’d given the rest of the meat over to the kind old man who ran the place, so if they weren’t even, things were more likely leaning in his favor than theirs.

 

“This is some bloody good cooking, mate!” Biggs chirped in an overly excited voice, a strained grin pulling his mouth just a bit too wide to be a natural smile. “Thanks for makin’ it! I think you’ve gotten even better in the last few years.” He winced at his own words almost immediately.

 

Yes… another lovely reminder of his time being kidnapped. This was terrible. Aranea, Biggs, and Wedge were honestly lovely people, but the constant ties back to before kept poisoning every conversation. At least with Aranea he had their years of communication to dull that feeling, but with Biggs and Wedge and what had happened recently… the wounds still seemed fresh. Of course it didn’t help that the awkwardness was far from just being on his end.

 

Honestly, Aranea was the only one of them who wasn’t _oozing_ it.

 

“My pleasure,” Ignis managed.

 

Aranea dropped her elbow onto the glass table, causing it to clank loudly and startle them all. “Okay, this needs to stop. I refuse to sit in this cloud of depression for who knows how long while we’re waiting for my contact to get back to me.”

 

Nyx snorted, his mind seeming to be back to Eos for the first time since the end of the call.

 

Aranea shot him a glare, standing swiftly. “Specs, with me.”

 

Ignis raised his eyebrow, but complied. “With you where, exactly?”

 

“Another hunt. We need to keep paying Wiz.” She jabbed a finger at Biggs and then Wedge. “By the time we get back I fully expect the two of you to have found something for all of us to do to break the ice.”

 

“Wha… Like what, Lady A?” Biggs blubbered out.

 

“No idea!” Aranea threw her arms in the air as she spun on her heel and walked away. “Use your imagination!”

 

Ignis sent Biggs a sympathetic look before rising to follow her. “Best of luck, I suppose.”

* * *

 

 

“Six, you’d think someone had died…” Aranea grumbled as she drew her chocobo out of the stables.

 

Ignis paused beside his own to send her a look over his shoulder.

 

She stopped. “…Okay, bad choice of words on my part.”

 

“Very,” Ignis agreed, hoisting himself onto the bird’s back. The bird chirped happily, and Ignis wondered when the novelty would wear off. Seeing these beautiful beasts in media was far from riding them in place of the Regalia.

 

“Sorry,” Aranea tossed to him. “Grieving is one thing, but I can’t stand this moping around when there’s so much that needs doing.”

 

“There is much to do,” Ignis said, stroking the bird’s neck. “But, as you’ve noted, we must wait for information, and the waiting is what has brought this… haze upon all of us. Nyx is professional. I’m certain he’ll recover – mentally, at any rate – fairly quickly and be ready to take action.” Well… perhaps he wouldn’t recover fully mentally, but he would be ready to fight. Whatever his issues might be, they seemed less inhibiting than Ignis’. Ignis had far more evidence to be worried about himself than Nyx.

 

Aranea made a noise before she jumped onto her chocobo. “Yeah, I’m dreading that already.”

 

Ignis tilted his head in a silent question.

 

“I may not know him, but I know his type.” She urged the bird forwards, starting off with a slow gait. “His wounds have got a long way to go, and he’s gonna go stir crazy before long. Not fun to deal with.”

 

Now, he couldn’t argue with that. He’d seen firsthand how stubborn Nyx could be during council meetings. If those were anything to go by, Nyx was going to be a horrible patient.

 

Nevertheless… northing they could do about it at the moment. “So… this hunt you’ve chosen for us?”

 

“Nothing big.” She kicked her heel against her bird’s side, speeding up. “Just getting some cash and giving those dorks a chance to figure out a way to not be so painfully tense. I swear, Biggs was acting like he was sitting on glass shards.”

 

“And here I thought that was all of us.” Ignis guided his chocobo to ride beside hers. “Except, perhaps, you.”

 

She grinned. “You don’t negotiate mercenary terms without being able to ignore a certain amount of tension.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it.”

 

“You might not have to take my word for it before too long.” She winked at him. “You might need to loosen up that collar of yours and settle into our ways if you wanna get this done.”

 

So be it, then. Whatever it took to eliminate this threat.

 


	19. The Ice

 

“This really doesn’t seem like the time for this…” Nyx grumbled, wanting to push himself into a more comfortable position but deciding the pain it would cause his ribs wasn’t worth it. He could live with his foot being asleep for the moment.

 

Biggs looked up from the wires he was messing with to where Nyx was lounging on the bed. It wasn’t exactly crowded in the back room of the room the owner was letting them use, but it sure was stuffy, though that might have been just due to the heat outside.

 

“Look, mate, Lady A said to find something to do, so that’s what I’m doing.” He waved his hand at Nyx. “Not like we can all go race chocobos with you bein’ like this.”

 

Well, at least they were speaking to each other in full sentences now rather than the dense silence still sitting between them. …Apart from Wedge, that was, but Nyx was getting the feeling that he didn’t really talk much at all in the first place.

 

“If you’d rather go fishin’, I’m sure we could drag you down to the lake so we can all get eaten by those blood suckin’ spawns of hell down there,” Biggs offered sarcastically, choosing one of the wires and handing it to Wedge so he could plug one end into the wall socket.

 

Nyx frowned. “You mean mosquitos?”

 

“Those are the ones!” Biggs finished getting the other end of the wires correctly put into the machine in his lap and set the machine on the floor. “Nasty little daemons, I tell you what…”

 

Nyx snorted. He’d never personally had a lot of trouble with mosquitos, but that was because any time a mission had him in an area with a lot of them, they always went after Pelna. Poor guy was a magnet for them. If Biggs had the same problem, it must not have been fun always camping around. Especially near a lake.

 

“Ha-ha!” Biggs cheered, shoving himself to his feet and dusting off his knees as the game box lit up the screen of the moderate-sized TV he and Wedge had hauled in.

 

Wedge moved over to a box they’d brought in earlier and fished some controllers out of it.

 

“Have you actually kept the stuff with you the whole time you’ve been running around avoiding the Empire?” Nyx wondered. He understood having fun to keep spirits up, but it didn’t seem to be the most practical form of entertainment to cart to a different place every few days.

 

“Eh, well, cards really don’t cut it after so long.” Biggs tossed a controller onto the bed next to Nyx. “Go on! You can play on Lady A’s account until she and Iggs get back.”

 

“Highwind does this too?” Nyx plucked up the controller, looking over the buttons with a frown. This really wasn’t his thing. Pelna’s, yeah, but Nyx had only observed people messing with these games before. He hadn’t actually played one himself.

 

“Sometimes,” Wedge grunted, much to Nyx’s surprise.

 

“Usually she just looks at her phone while we play,” Biggs admitted. “But we made her an account anyway.” He clicked over to a certain game and booted it up.

 

Nyx arched an eyebrow. He wasn’t expecting to know whatever game they were going to pick, but he remembered the title. If he wasn’t remembering wrong, this was the game Pelna had said he’d met his girlfriend through.

 

“…So, how does this work?” Nyx wondered as the other two men took a seat on the bed beside him, forcing him to finally adjust. He winced as the blood returned to his foot and his ribs shot pangs of protest at him.

 

Six, he couldn’t wait to be healed.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s still ages away. C’mon, just a quick visit?”

 

A lot of things were hard lately, but one of the hardest things Noctis had yet to encounter was having to say no to Prompto’s I-really-wanna-do-this-so-can-we-pleeeaaaase face. Especially when it came to chocobos. Prompto had an unnatural obsession with those things, and Noctis felt like crap denying him a visit to a farm of them. Still. He was gonna have to anyway.

 

“No can do, Prompto.” Noctis was already heading back to the car. “Lestallum comes first, and we still have to track down the rest of the Royal Arms.”

 

Prompto huffed, looking put out, but not actually protesting. “Kay… Maybe we’ll get lucky and one of the tombs with be near a farm or something.”

 

“It would be a nice change of scenery considering where we found the other ones.” Gladio slid into the back seat with ease. Noctis knew Gladio hated having Ignis gone, but all that room in the back must have been nice with how much time they were spending in the car.

 

“Yeah… as if any chocobos want to live near a creepy old tomb.” Noct plopped back into the driver’s seat, popping his neck and back one more time as Prompto climbed into the other side.

 

“Those are the resting places of your ancestors, you know,” Gladio reminded.

 

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t creepy.”

 

“They are totally creepy,” Prompto backed him up. “Are we forgetting about the terrifying sword daemon that impaled Noct?”

 

“I haven’t, but I’d sure like to.” Noct winced. “Why the hell did they want to be buried in places like that to start? Why not like in the middle of a forest near a road stop or something?”

 

Gladio snorted. “Right. Because they’d know the place would still be nice several hundred years later.”

 

“Well, they could not _start_ with it in a dungeon! That might help!” Prompto said.

 

Noctis started the car back up. “That settles it. Guys, when I died, just, like, bury me in one of the nature reserves back home. Like that one with the lake in it. That outta make things easy.”

 

“Well, that’s gonna be on you, then, Prompto, because I have to die before him.” Gladio crossed his arms, lounging in the back.

 

“Says who?” Noctis demanded. He hated that attitude. What if he didn’t want to die last and have to bury all the people who took care of him?

 

“Says my duty.”

 

“Yeah? Your duty gonna protect me from old age?”

 

“…I’m older than you. I’ll still probably die first.”

 

“Not with Noct’s anti-veggie diet, you won’t.” Prompto snickered.

 

“I think you’re underestimating the amount of Cup Noodles I’ll have eaten by then.”

 

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Fine. We can both die on the same day from crappy eating habits before we get the chance to get old. Sound good?”

 

Gladio shrugged. “Yeah, that works.”  

 

“So…” Prompto shifted in his seat, a grin slowly forming on his face. “Should I, like… bury you with a sword, or do you really want me to go with the lake theme and use a fishing poll?”

 

Noctis burst out laughing, trying to still his hands so he didn’t drive off the road. It was a good thing there weren’t any other cars around. “Wh-what the hell?”

 

Gladio was laughing loudly too, his booming voice echoing around the inside of the car in a way that was almost painful.

 

“What are you laughin’ about, Big Guy?” Prompto folded his hands behind his head, looking rather proud of himself. “With that reasoning, we get to bury you in a tomb that looks like a giant Cup Noodle!”

 

Noctis laughed harder, his eyes watering. “His ancestors would be so proud!”

 

“I hate you brats,” Gladio wheezed out before sharply inhaling. “Noct, watch the damn road!”

* * *

 

 

Aranea wasn’t going to lie – she liked fighting alongside Specs. Now that his initial rattled… _ness_ had worn off, they were even more in sync. It wasn’t often she got the chance to fight with someone who matched her style so well. She could easily get used to it.

 

Right. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. As soon as they were done with Loqi, Specs would be right back to Prince Pretty Boy. Which was fine. She’d enjoy having him around while it lasted.

 

She almost snorted as she released her lance and turned to find him attempting to look his most pristine self. He was failing. Badly. If anyone could look pristine while covered in dirt, it was him, but… nah, it just wasn’t working. Not that he looked bad, per se, as he tried to wipe off his glasses while he frowned at them.

 

“Lose your cleaning cloth?” She strolled over to him.

 

“Evidently…”

 

That haircut of his. Aranea resisted a snort. It was one thing with the glasses on, but without… Wow. Just wow. Maybe she could steal his hair gel later. Might be fun to see him flustered about something less than life-threatening. Might be a nice distraction for him too…

 

“Here.” She took her side sash in hand, flipping it over so the softer underside was facing out. She held her other hand out to him.

 

He hesitated, but then slowly released his glasses into her grip. She snickered at his cautiousness before gently wiping off the lenses.

 

“Oh, shit! I think I cracked them–”

 

“You what?” Somehow the blood drained from his face fast enough for her to see. “How did you–”

 

She grinned.

 

He jabbed a finger at her. “…That’s not funny.”

 

Laughter poured out of her mouth unrestrained. “Oh, yes it is!”

 

“It bloody well is not!” he snapped, but it lacked any true venom. The edge of his lips twitched upwards.

 

“I saw that.”

 

“You saw nothing.” His amusement grew even more obvious as he rescued his glasses back, squinting at them before settling them back into their usual place. “You menace…”

 

“Menace? Aw, come on.” She flicked his nose after he’d gotten his glasses perfect. “You know you love me.”

 

He froze.

 

…Well, there went any chance of things being less awkward.

 

Geez, he looked like a chocobo frozen in fear and ready to bolt. She’d just been kidding.

 

…And he had not taken it as a joke.

 

He was still staring at her.

 

…Ohhhhhh, Six.

 

He cleared his throat. Or tried to, rather. It wasn’t a particularly strong noise. “We should return before it gets late…” His voice was anything but its usual clear and confident self.

 

“…Yeah, we should.” She tried to make her own tone louder, and then she pulled out the chocobo whistle before she could say anything else idiotic.

 

* * *

 

 

“Son of a…” Nyx gritted his teeth, cutting himself off as his character died for about the millionth time.

 

Biggs started laughing at him. Again. “Mate, you’re really bloody awful at this.”

 

Nyx didn’t dignify him with a response to that. Yeah, he honestly was. These buttons were so damn tiny and sensitive.

 

It did make him feel better that apparently Aranea wasn’t much better than him, but given Biggs’ comments before, that was likely because she just didn’t try. That he could understand. Still. He _was_ trying, and he was failing. Badly.

 

Nyx’s character dropped back onto the scene freshly resurrected only to be immediately run over by a giant bug the size of a car.

 

Nyx sighed deeply. “Don’t you have any other games?”

 

“I could check our box, but I think this is the only multiplayer we have for more than two people.” Biggs shot him a grin. “Wanna try tackling something solo, mate?”

 

“Pass,” Nyx muttered.

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it!”

 

Wedge looked at Nyx then. “I was pretty awful too, at first. Give it a chance.”

 

“We should put him and Lady A up against each other on something.”

 

“What about Scientia?”

 

“I dunno… you think he’d be that bad?”

 

“Dunno. Doesn’t seem like the gaming type to me, but who knows? Might be fun to see.”

 

Huh. So Wedge was loosening up around him. That was good, he guessed. Maybe Highwind’s plan of leaving them alone to break the ice was working after all. At least a bit, at any rate.

 

He wondered how things were with her and Scientia.

  
 


	20. The Break

Ignis spent the entirety of the ride back berating himself for being an utterly hopeless idiot. Aranea had obviously been joking with that comment she made, and he’d gone and botched up their easygoing banter by freezing at the wrong time.

 

This had been a terrible idea.

 

No… that was just his bloody emotions talking. Coming to Aranea _had_ been the best course of action. She was the only one with the resources he needed.

 

Ignis had expected the ride back to feel longer due to the lack of any conversation between the two of them, but apparently he’d spent enough time thinking that they’d arrived back.

 

Wiz seemed to be busy with some late-night travelers, so Ignis and Aranea wordlessly agreed to turn in the hunt later.

 

Amazing. They were in sync enough to be able to do that, yet a single awkward moment had pushed them into hours of avoiding looking at each other. 

 

It wasn’t until they’d reached the door of the room in the back of the shop that actual voices broke through the various bird calls and other general wildlife. Voices that sounded like _bickering_ , if the tone was anything to go by.

 

Ignis and Aranea shared a look before pushing the door open together.

 

“–bloody did that on purpose!” Biggs yelled.

 

The Captain had a lazy grin on his face that was anything but a denial.

 

Ignis glanced at the TV they’d set up in his and Aranea’s absence and chuckled, his unease ebbing away at the sight of the familiar game. It was also rather amusing to see all their characters dead on the ground with missiles still raining down upon them as the shuttle that was supposed to take them to safety flew off without them.

 

“Oops.” Nyx’s voice was completely devoid of emotion. “Guess I was too busy listening to your last snippy comment to pay attention to what buttons I was hitting.” 

 

Aranea chortled, whispering, “Why do I get the feeling that happened with you and Pretty Boy at some point?”

 

“Oh, far more than once,” Ignis returned easily. He then raised his voice. “Been having fun in our absence, I see?” At least it looked like they’d been having a better time than him and Aranea.

 

“Well, we _were_ until someone started sabotaging us!” Biggs gave Nyx a pointed look.

 

Nyx ignored him, offering his controller to Ignis. “Want a turn, Scientia? Highwind? It’s such riveting fun.”

 

“I might be convinced.” Ignis spotted a fourth controller on the table that was under the TV.

 

Nyx blinked. Clearly, that had not been the answer he’d been expecting. “Really?”

 

“Oh, yes. It’s hardly as though we have more pressing matters at the moment.” Not while they were still waiting on Aranea’s contact, at any rate. They wouldn’t be taking any more hunts tonight either. This would be a familiar and welcome unwinding, even if it felt odd without Noct’s present.

 

Biggs followed Ignis’ line of sight, then clambered off the bed to retrieve the last controller. “Right! Just lemme get a guest account ready.”

 

“Thank you, Biggs, but that won’t be necessary.” He held out his hand. “If I may?”

 

Biggs shrugged. “Yeah, sure, mate.”

 

Ignis easily navigated the familiar menus and logged into his own account. How ironic. This was probably his only account from anything that he wasn’t worried about the Empire using to find him.

 

“ _EbonyAddict?_ ” Aranea barked out a laugh, resting a hand on her hip. “Nice username, Specs.”

 

Ignis smiled fondly. “Noct’s idea.” Though he could hardly say it wasn’t accurate. Not after the Marshal of the Crownsguard himself had had him cut off for a while.

 

Biggs raised an eyebrow. “Pretty Boy get you all those trophies too?”

 

Wedge whistled. “Platinums.”

 

Nyx looked baffled.

 

Aranea just laughed. “Ever the perfectionist, aren’t you, Specs?”

 

Ignis huffed. “I don’t like seeing things left unfinished. Besides, those games had relatively easy requirements.”

 

Nyx shook his head, still looking very confused as his controller remained stretched towards them. “You want this, Highwind, or should I keep dropping missiles on them?”

 

“Depends.” Aranea hit Biggs and Wedge with a glare. “Have you two actually fed yourselves?”

 

Silence.

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. “You better hang onto it for now. Maybe after I get back with some food.” She headed out the door, waving over her shoulder. “Have fun, boys.”

 

Ignis settled onto the floor in front of the bed. Well, now there was something else he and Aranea had in common that he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d had to drag Noct and Prompto away from their games to get a meal in them.

 

Amazing how worlds so far apart in nature could have such similarities.

 

* * *

 

“Ulric, I swear if one of your damn turrets shoots me again…” Aranea growled, repeatedly smashing the button to make her bleeding character get off the ground. Biggs gleefully laughed around a mouthful of behemoth meat as he watched. It seemed he found Nyx’s attempts to get them all killed far more entertaining when he wasn’t playing himself. 

 

Ignis had to give Biggs and Wedge credit – they had certainly managed to break the ice like Aranea suggested. Or at least partially. Nyx still gave off the aura of being intentionally reserved, but Ignis could hardly blame him. Nyx hadn’t been on the other side of the conflict, those three years ago. He’d been trying to hunt down the people who were offering him shelter and healing now, and while he knew the truth behind their motives, that didn’t give him the same bond with them as Ignis had formed.

 

Perhaps time would change that. It had only been one full day, after all.

 

Ignis made his character dive as the turret fired in their characters’ direction again. The bullets passed harmlessly over his character as Aranea’s was pulverized on the spot, dying after having just gotten back to her feet.

 

Aranea slowly craned her neck around to glare at him before sticking up her middle finger. “That’s it – I’m making an executive decision and calling it a night after this planet.”

 

“It _is_ growing quite late,” Ignis agreed, keying in the combination to revive a fallen player. Not that he and Wedge would be… terribly worse off without her, but at least she wasn’t actively trying to kill them.

 

Honestly, as terrible as it seemed, Ignis was relieved to find something Aranea _wasn’t_ good at. It was oddly refreshing to see her frustrated over something so unimportant. Not that he’d been under any impressions that she was perfect, but her years on him did usually grant her superior abilities with many things. With games, however, it appeared she knew more facts of what to do rather than how to execute them.

 

They finished the planet with a surprising amount of ease – probably due to Ignis shooting Nyx intentionally before he could call another missile barrage down on them – and quit the game for the night shortly after.

 

Aranea groaned as she climbed back to her feet. She paused for a moment to crack her back – something that was so loud it made Ignis wince. “Okay, time to turn in.” She looked to Nyx. “You need anything for the night? Food? Water? Extra blanket?”

 

Nyx shook his head. “No. Thanks, but I’m good.”

 

Aranea arched an eyebrow. “Water is it.” With that, she headed out the door. Ignis inwardly chuckled. He’d used that tactic many times himself.

 

Nyx frowned.

 

Wedge made some sort of noise Ignis wasn’t sure how to classify. “You’ve done it now…”

 

“…All I said was that I didn’t need anything,” Nyx said blankly.

 

“Yet you’re showing clear signs of dehydration,” Ignis pointed out. It was terribly obvious, really. The Glaive’s split lips were visible from across a room. “Your lack of willingness to admit even such an obvious problem just informed her that she’s not going to be able to take your word on anything related to your symptoms because you’ll likely downplay how badly you’re actually feeling.”

 

Nyx scoffed. “Like you’d be any better. You didn’t even call in sick when you had the flu, once. The King had to order you to go home.”

 

Biggs laughed. “Sounds ’bout right. Got any other stories you’d like to share ’bout him?”

 

“None of that now,” Ignis said quickly, though he wasn’t sure exactly how many stories the Captain would actually have about him. It wasn’t as though they commonly socialized outside work. Him and Prompto, perhaps, with all the training Prompto had taken on. “I’m certain you’ll have time to gossip tomorrow after we’ve all had an ample amount of rest – especially those of us who are injured.”

 

Biggs huffed, crossing his arms as he trudged towards the door. “Bloody ’ell… Went from one mum to two. You two _are_ a match, aren’t you? We’re older than you, you know…”

 

Ignis didn’t dignify that with a reply.

 

“Night,” was all Wedge said as he headed off.

 

Ignis paused, giving Nyx a nod. “Captain.”

 

Something in Nyx’s expression twitched, but he said nothing.

 

* * *

 

Aranea massaged a point on her neck as she headed back with a water bottle in hand. These boys were going to be the death of her, she just knew it. And Six help her, she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

  

She re-entered the back room briskly, wanting to get to bed herself.

 

The Glaive hadn’t moved, and Aranea figured moving was probably too much pain for him unless he really needed to. Noted for the future. A pity Biggs and Wedge had only had so many potions when they found him, but considering their savings, he’d been lucky they had any at all, really, and now it was best they let some more natural healing occur.

 

She pulled out a small foldable chair that was propped against the wall and dragged it over to the bed, setting it up and placing the water atop it.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No sweat,” Aranea replied automatically, turning to head for the door. “See you in the morning, Glaive.”

 

“I meant for everything.”

 

She paused. Oh. Right. That. She supposed that was kind of a big deal for him. For her, it had just been a spur-of-the-moment reaction. Dying man and possible ally needed a potion? She kicked him a potion. But for him… Well, Aranea had seen what happened. He’d been executed. He’d been ready to die then. Must have been jarring to suddenly be alive after falling into that mindset. She wondered what he’d done with his life since then. Other than gotten a promotion, that was. She’d heard Specs calling him Captain. Made sense that the King had replaced Glauca with him – he was a good soldier. He being alive after the attack on the city gave Prince Pretty Boy a huge advantage. Well… after the _Captain_ got back on his feet, that was.

 

She turned halfway, making eye contact so he’d know she wasn’t dismissing his heartfelt gratitude. “You’re welcome, Ulric. Now get to healing up so I don’t have to do it again.”

 

His lips twitched upwards at that. He started arranging himself on the bed to actually lie down, muttering swears as he did so. “Should have taken a page from Pelna’s book and dated a doctor…”

 

Aranea knew the name. It was one Ignis had mentioned a few times, but not with any great amount of frequency. “Wasn’t he the one that stabbed Wedge?”

 

The Glaive blinked as he settled back onto his pillow. “Forgot about that… Yeah.”

 

Aranea made a dismissive gesture. “I’m sure he’s over it by now.”

 

Nyx grunted. “I don’t think any of us are fully over that crap…”

 

Aranea sighed. “Can’t argue with that.” Of the lot of them, Aranea suspected she was the one least affected, and it had changed the entire course of her life, so… “Maybe we all just need a little more time.”

 

Nyx shook his head. “Not sure that’ll help all of us.”

 

Aranea tilted her head. He wasn’t referring to himself. The Prince, maybe? She didn’t allow herself to feel guilt about that anymore. Living half deaf was better than being dead, and she’d only had a split second to act. She stood by her actions.

 

“Get some rest, Ulric. That will help you.”

 

They could talk more later.

 

…Six, she hoped her contact would get back to her soon. There was only so much of this waiting and talking she could take before it smothered her to death.


	21. The Message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a surprise for you guys coming up in a couple chapterrrrrrs. :D

 

Stretching was a normal thing for one to do right after they’d woken up. Nyx had never really thought about that before, but now he realized it was a habit he had. A habit he really, really wished he’d known about before he’d had his ribs broken.

 

Nyx gritted his teeth, barely swallowing a scream as he went from half asleep to completely awake and in pain in less than a few moments.

 

Stretching was a _bad idea_ at the moment. Also, it was really damn cold, and he seemed to have kicked his blanket out of reach during the night.

 

Nyx panted, crunching his eyes shut until the discomfort passed. It was a few minutes before it did, and he spent the next few debating whether or not he wanted to try sitting up.

 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Oi. You awake?”

 

Nyx recognized the voice as belonging to the darkly dressed mercenary. The quiet one. Wedge, he was pretty sure.

 

“Yeah,” he called back. “But if I hadn’t been, I would be now…” He resisted a shiver, knowing that would no doubt put him in more pain. He should have asked for his shirt back, though it was ruined. The bandages over his chest weren’t really helping with warmth, and the sleeves of his uniform had at least been intact, even if the rest of it was in tatters.

 

Tatters. Hah. How fitting. Just like his career. And life.

 

…Six, he was grumpy this morning. He was going to have to make an effort not to bark at his companions.

 

The door opened, and Nyx _did_ shiver as a gust of cold, damp air wafted in. _Ow._

 

Wedge moved over and picked up the blanket off the floor. “There’s food. You want it in ’ere, or do you want ’elp getting out to the fire we started?”

 

Nyx’s ribs said to stay. His nearly numb legs said to go. His stir-crazy brain also said to go.

 

The ribs had been overruled. Going it was.

 

“The fire would be nice…” Nyx tried to sit up, grimacing as he did so. “If I can manage…”

 

“Biggs!” Wedge called over his shoulder. “’Elp us out here.”

 

“You got it!”

 

A few minutes of withheld screaming later, the two of them managed to get him outside and seated in some foldable lawn chair. Nyx spared a bit more time to catch his breath again before he looked around with a frown.

 

The setup they had was a simple gathering of chairs around a fire near the caravan. The chill and dampness of the air spoke of an oncoming storm, so the blankets piled in one chair made sense, as did the large pot of what smelled like cider that was over the fire, but something else _didn’t_ make sense.

 

There were too many chairs. Too much cider. Highwind and Scientia were nowhere to be seen. And… Nyx was absolutely positive that the hat in the chair opposite to him did not belong to any of his current companions.

 

He snorted lightly, picturing Scientia in the worn knit cap. That would be a sight.

 

Wedge offered him a mug of cider. “’Ere.”

 

“Thanks.” Nyx accepted the drink, blowing on it since there was still steam pouring out of the top. “Where are Scientia and Highwind?”

 

Wedge waved at the nearby road. “Took off. Another hunt. Wiz is nice, but we gotta keep payin’ him.”

 

Keep paying him for taking up his spare room and being a general inconvenience. Right. And… bribe him with cider, apparently. _That’s_ why Nyx recognized that hat…

 

“I take it there still hasn’t been any word from Highwind’s contact?” He gripped his mug tightly, relishing the warmth that spread into his fingers from it.

 

“’Fraid not, mate.” Biggs came up from somewhere behind him, brandishing a plate with an omelette on it. “’Ere. Specs fixed this before they took off.”

 

Of course he did. Well, he couldn’t say he wasn’t thankful for Scientia’s hobby at the moment.

 

Biggs and Wedge settled into their seats around the fire, nursing their own cups of cider.

 

“So…” Biggs said in a chipper tone that made it clear he was forcibly trying to kill the silence. “You have fun sabotaging us last night? I’d never thought of Specs as into that sort of thing.”

 

Nyx grunted. “It was a good distraction.” He’d rather have been killing things in real life, but blowing up pixilated enemies was therapeutic, in a way. Especially since he couldn’t get off his ass to do anything useful. If only he could take another potion, but he knew it was best to let things heal naturally for a while. “And His Highness–” _Majesty,_ he corrected himself mentally, “–is pretty fond of them. My guess is that he dragged him into it at first.”

 

“Right.”

 

Silence fell again for a few moments.

 

Biggs sighed. “Listen, mate… Wedge and I… we know you must be pretty wary of us, and we don’t blame you. But… we are sorry for everything that happened before. I swear.”

 

Nyx observed him for a moment before taking a slow breath. He needed to say something to keep melting that ice between them… A joke, maybe. “I never thought you weren’t.” He gave Wedge a look. “Figured you got to that point right about when Pelna stabbed you, actually.”

 

Wedge snorted, his hand drifting to touch the spot Nyx knew to be where he’d been stabbed. Nyx suppressed a wince. Maybe that hadn’t been the best tactic after all. Getting stabbed was no joke. Or, at least, it wasn’t to him. Maybe Wedge’s incident had been less traumatic than his own, though.

 

Biggs chuckled quietly. “Nah, mate… It was well before then. Honestly, we were glad your team was as good as it was.”

 

His team. Nyx swallowed. “They weren’t _my_ team back then…” And look what being his team had gotten them… Pelna was the only one left…

 

“Sure they were. They followed your lead, didn’t they?”

 

“Yeah… I guess so.” It was him somewhat ignoring orders and trusting his instincts that had worked, and the others had followed his lead, so maybe he had really been running things, in a way.

 

Biggs’ pleasant expression died again. “I… I’m sorry. They didn’t make it out, did they?”

 

Nyx shook his head. “Not enough of them.”

 

Biggs chewed his lip, staring into his cider. “You know… it wasn’t always the three of us.”

 

Nyx tilted his head, wondering where Biggs was going with this. He waited for the man to continue.

 

“Before we met Lady A, there was another girl that used to be our partner in crime.” His fond smile spoke of pain. “Lady A’s like a big sister, but Jessie was like a little one.” He paused, licking his lips. “She died under our watch. Wasn’t really our fault, but… yeah, we blamed ourselves anyway.” He shrugged. “Kind of how it goes.”

That was different, Nyx thought. He’d been _chosen_ for the job. The King had picked _him_. The King had _expected_ him to be able to lead. And Libertus and Crowe… They’d trusted him. And he’d mistakenly trusted the rest of the Glaive. Six, so many of them had died without him even knowing what side they were on. Others he didn’t even know if they were still alive or not.

 

“What were their names?” Wedge asked quietly.

 

Nyx took a breath. He could be concise and just give the names, or he could say more. They were offering him a chance if he wanted to share or not.

 

“Libertus and Crowe.”

 

He could see the anticipation in their eyes – the question of whether or not he’d keep talking. He took another slow breath, deciding.

 

* * *

 

 

“That is absurd. You are anything but lazy. You’re an accomplished mercenary, you’ve been evading the greatest military force in the world for years, and your lance work is unparalleled. You and the term lazy don’t even belong in the same planetary orbit.”

 

“They do when it comes to me and food. Honestly, Specs, with me doing all those things you just listed, do you think I have time to throw a roast in the crockpot? I count it an above average morning if I even feel like putting the effort into making breakfast warm, and most of the time that’s instant oatmeal in a mug.”

 

Ignis’ chocobo turned its head and stared up at him curiously at the distressed, strangled sound he made. “Please tell me you’re saying that merely to elicit a horrified reaction from me and that it’s not the actual truth?”

 

Aranea tossed her head back, laughing loudly. “You catching on to the fact that I love to do that kinda thing?”

 

“Catching on?” Ignis demanded incredulously. Surely she was joking further? “What do you take me for? I’d figured out that much years ago. The problem is figuring out when that is your goal and when you are truly serious.”

 

Aranea grinned. “I guess that means I have a good poker face, then.”

 

Poker. With Aranea? Bloody hell. He’d rather avoid that pool of embarrassment if at all possible. Something told him she’d be a much more difficult opponent than Gladio, who was his only true challenge in their group – Noct he simply could read too well after all these years, and Prompto was… well, Prompto.

 

“Indeed. I suspect that’s come in rather handy in your line of work.”

 

Aranea’s laugh was gleeful. “You have no idea. The Empire wasn’t quite that easy, but the hunters we’ve had to deal with? It’s honestly almost too easy to convince them to pay a little extra sometimes.”

 

That might have sat worse with Ignis if he didn’t know that the quality of Aranea and Biggs and Wedge’s work was well worth a few extra gil. No other mere hunters could have done a better job than them, whatever the task.

 

Ignis slowed his chocobo a tad as they came upon some steeper ground leading down. He trusted his mount, but it wouldn’t do to have his bird’s footing give out and send them both tumbling into Aranea and her own mount. Even barring any injuries, it wouldn’t do to yet again heap a layer of awkwardness between them. The incident the day before had only just begun to fade from the forefront of his mind.

 

Despite it being only a temporary solution, hunting various vile creatures was quite the bonding experience and stress reliever.

 

A low rumble above them brought part of that stress back.

 

Ignis took a breath. It was fine. He was much more stable than he had been a few days prior, and they were out in the open. Plus, he had time to mentally prepare now – something he hadn’t had before when he’d woken up in the tent.

 

“Hold up!” Aranea called back to him, suddenly tugging on the reins of her chocobo to direct it under the shelter of a nearby tree.

 

Ignis only just had time to frown before she pulled out her phone, squinting at the screen. Ah. She probably didn’t want it ruined if the sky decided to open up.

 

Ignis pulled up next to her, heart rate suddenly kicking up further the longer Aranea remained silent. Ignis caught himself holding his breath. Could it be…? Was this the message they’d been waiting for? Given how many days had passed, could her contact have found something?

 

As soon as she looked up at him, he knew. Her face was too serious for anything else. She held the phone up so he could see the screen.

 

“Looks like we have our lead, Specs.”

 

She didn’t sound happy about it. He didn’t _feel_ happy about it. But happy wasn’t what they needed to be. Their feelings didn’t matter now.

 

Taking out Loqi was a mission – a mission they had to complete to protect themselves and, more importantly, those they cared about. A mission they _would_ make a success.

 


	22. The Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drowns under workload*
> 
> Okay, guys! About that surprise!
> 
> I believe you all will remember the [49 Hours side chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941240) that my beta wrote about Nyx? Well, she knows his character far better than I do, and I was struggling a little bit with writing him, so she actually wrote Chapter 23. She has got a beautiful writing style *cough* way better than mine *cough* and I’m sure you guys are gonna love it! Be sure to give her lots of love next week! :)

“Are you absolutely sure?”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes for about the fifth time in the last five minutes. “Yes, we are sure. We’re closer and the information is time sensitive. If we wait on you guys, we might lose our chance. Besides, you’re supposed to be resting, Dreadlocks.”

 

Ignis snorted, then leaned closer to the phone. “It’s unlikely we’ll be attempting anything truly substantial anyway. Aranea’s contact told us that the base is heavily armed. Taking out Loqi may be our mission, but we will not go about it foolishly. Our task is likely to be mere surveillance at this point.”

 

It was the Glaive’s turn to snort. “You telling me you won’t take the chance to kill him if it comes up?”

 

“He’s got a point, Lady A! Me and Wedge are ready to go if ya need us!”

 

“Again: no. I know you guys are ready to jump in and help, and if there’s anything you can do to really help, I will ask, but stealth groups are better in small numbers.”

 

Biggs’ sigh was lengthy. “Fiiiiiiine.”

 

“Just keep us updated,” Wedge said.

 

“That I’m certain we can do,” Ignis assured, adjusting his gloves.

 

Huh. That was a nervous tick he hadn’t had before. At least not that she’d noticed. He must have been really anxious to get going. Well, so was she. This conversation needed to end. “We’ll call as soon as we have anything. Hang tight. Eat food. Drink cider. Play videos game. I don’t care what the hell you do, just don’t come chasing after us and get us all killed.” With that, she hung up, not giving them a chance to reply to any of what she’d just said.

 

She looked at Ignis. Really looked at him, to the point where he shifted under her gaze, seeming uncomfortable.

 

“…Yes?”

 

She crossed her arms, looking him over once more. “You ready for this? And don’t even think about lying to me, or I will punch you so hard you’re gonna wish you’d been shot again instead.”

 

Ignis chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood, but his slight smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived. “I am… as ready as I believe I am going to get.”

 

…Well, that was rather unreassuring. Not that she’d really been expecting otherwise. She just hoped the rain would hold off, even if the look of the sky at the moment didn’t suggest that was going to be likely.

 

“Look, Specs.” She uncrossed her arms, trying to make herself seem less hostile – something that was definitely a first. “I haven’t been with you through this whole thing, but I’m the only one you’ve got out here. If you need something at some point – anything – you will _need_ to _tell me_ right away, okay? No delays. No holding back information because you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re fine. Got it? Because I’m not going to put up with that stupidity – I will help you, not coddle you.”

 

He gave her a simple nod in return. Because of course he did – he was him. That’s the kind of thing he did. And she’d never have it another way.

 

* * *

 

Things had now gotten to the point where Nyx was almost ready to say broken ribs were one of the worst injuries ever. Even if he’d lost a whole arm, at least he would have still been able to pace. He’d never realized how much he enjoyed the ability to do that before, and he wasn’t going to be taking it for granted again any time soon.

 

One potion. One damn potion was all he needed to get back up and going, but noooo. He had to be stuck at the stupid stage where he needed to heal naturally.

 

He was about an inch from ignoring all the medical warnings he’d ever received and using one anyway, physical side effects and possible mental impairment be damned.

 

…Of course he’d actually have to get his hands on a potion, which would probably mean fighting Biggs and Wedge for one. Right. Nyx would have been surprised if he could have fought a blanket and won at the moment.

 

“…Mate, you need to relax,” Biggs commented, stirring his cup of noodles. How he could be so relaxed, Nyx had no idea. “Nothin’ we can do. And they’ll be fine.”

 

Fine. Right. They really should be fine, honestly. This was just paranoia brought on by… well… the death of most of his closest friends.

 

Nyx swallowed. No… This wasn’t like that. Highwind had said herself they probably wouldn’t even engage.

 

They’d both be back, and the mission would be a success. All he had to do was wait. For probably days.

 

…Six, he was going to go insane.

 

“So…” Biggs grinned at Wedge, and then at Nyx. “Who’s up for a bet?”

 

Wedge sat up straighter.

 

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “Bet with what, exactly? I literally can’t even give you the shirt off my back.” He gestured to his bandaged torso. “What could you win – my boots?”

 

Biggs snorted. “How ’bout we all just get smug satisfaction and the right to rub it in each other’s faces if we win?”

 

Nyx was about to shrug, but he caught himself at the last moment. “Sure. I’ll bet the rest of my pride and dignity. Why not?”

 

The look Biggs gave him was definitely more of pity than amusement. “…Great.”

 

“What we bettin’ on?” Wedge cut in.

 

Biggs’ grin returned. “How long it’s gonna take for Lady A and Gentleman I to start snogging.”

 

Nyx… was extremely glad he hadn’t been eating or drinking anything right then.

 

“What.” Wedge stared at Biggs blankly.

 

Biggs gave him an exasperated look. “Oh, come on! You ’aven’t seen it?”

 

Nyx had seen a lot of things. He’d seen his best friend die, men he trusted turn against him, a Princess throw herself out of a flying aircraft, magical dogs, and the most formal man he’d ever known sit down and shoot digital bugs with lasers. What he had not seen was Highwind and Scientia do anything romantic towards each other at all. In fact, a couple of times they’d seemed overly stiff in each other’s presence – something that made sense considering how Ignis had been kidnapped and held captive by her.

 

And then there was the whole reason Scientia had left his friends in the first place. “I’m pretty sure Scientia has other things on his mind than romance…”

 

“And I’m pretty sure we’ll both be in the ground by the time Lady A settles down with a bloke,” Wedge added.

 

“ _You_ ’ave the romantic awareness of a potato – what do you know?” Biggs shot back at him. “Fine. You two can bet it won’t ’appen, and I’ll just get all bragging rights later– oh, bloody ’ell, Wedge, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

 

Wedge was gripping his mug tightly. “It’s fine.” He pushed out of his chair, heading for the shop nearby.

 

Biggs slumped, looking miserable. “I’m an idiot…”

 

Nyx stayed quiet. Not his business, whatever that was about. If they wanted to share, fine, but he wasn’t going to ask.

 

Biggs shook his head. “He, um… He had someone before all that… mess. Broke up with ’er a few weeks after to keep ’er safe.”

 

Ouch. Okay, that was an understandably painful subject for him, then, but that was a while ago. “Must have been serious if he’s still hung up about it after this long…”

 

Biggs grimaced. “Well… the announcement of her wedding in the paper a couple of months back might have reopened the wound. I think he’d always kind of hoped, you know?”

 

Nyx nodded. That was rough. “He still probably made the right call.”

 

“Yeah…” Biggs paused, seeming to be debating on whether or not to say something more. “Your people probably just don’t realize, you know? How much we gave up, I mean. They just remember mercenaries that got in over their heads, but going against the Empire… It cost us. I wrote letters, but I never got to see my mum again. Didn’t even get to go to her funeral.”

 

Biggs was right. Nyx hadn’t thought about that at all. “…My condolences.”

 

Biggs grunted roughly.

 

Nyx admitted to himself that he’d really just been thinking of Biggs and Wedge as Aranea’s men before. He needed to change that. Libertus and Crowe hadn’t just been _his Glaive_ , after all.

 

“You know, Biggs… since I had to get stuck on my ass with a couple of strangers, I’m pretty happy with who those strangers ended up being.”

 

Biggs gave him a dry smile. “Least we can mentally keep you on your toes, ay?”

 

Nyx chuckled. Ow. “Yeah.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, we have a mission coming up in the morning…”

 

“I’m well aware.” Ignis could feel Aranea’s eyes on his back as he sat at the edge of the haven.

 

“…Then don’t you think you should be getting some sleep? Come on, if the boys were here, you’d have been hounding them an hour ago.”

 

Ignis sighed, squinting at the darkened cloud above as best he could. She made him promise not to lie to her. He needed to honor that, no matter how much he didn’t want to about these matters. “If it starts to rain and I’m expecting it, I’m better able to keep control. If I’m out in the open, I’m better able to keep control. If it starts to rain and I’m awoken by it in an enclosed space… things won’t end well.” He was not eager for a repeat of last time.

 

Aranea didn’t say anything. He could hear her messing with something, but he didn’t turn to see what.

 

“You like classical, I assume?” There was a faint tapping noise.

 

“Hm?” He did turn then, finding her staring at her phone.

 

She paused to wave the phone at him briefly before returning to whatever she was doing on it. “Music, Specs. What do you want? What can you sleep with? Piano? Violin? Should block out the sound of rain if it starts, right?” 

 

Ignis stared at her for a moment. This woman… This truly remarkable, unique woman. No pity, no awkwardness. She just… suggested a solution. One that might well work. It didn’t even have to block out the rain completely – it just needed to prevent the rain from being loud enough to wake him up.

 

He cleared his throat, realizing he’d been staring at her. “That sounds like a fine idea. Whatever won’t keep you awake will suit me well.” He assumed she wouldn’t be picking something like heavy metal, so he wasn’t too worried about her choice.

 

She snorted, still scrolling and looking for something. “I’ve bunked down and slept during much worse noise than music. No need to worry about that. How’s this?”

 

A few sweet notes poured out of the phone as she clicked the volume button up a few times. Some orchestral version of a popular song Ignis had heard Prompto play aloud too many times while they were driving.

 

Yes… calming but with a bit of familiarity… That would do nicely.

 

When he did settle into the tent, he was pleased to find that the tent’s walls amplified the kind sounds pleasantly, making the small space comfortable instead of stifling.

 

Ignis breathed a sigh of relief, setting his glasses off to the side and letting himself relax. Even if it started to rain, he wouldn’t wake. 

 

He let the pull of exhaustion take him quickly, his mind at ease for the first time in days. Things were still bloody terrible, but at least he had this moment.

 

Things would improve. For everyone. He’d see to that soon, and then… then perhaps he could return to the others. Perhaps… perhaps he might even convince Aranea and Biggs and Wedge to join him. Unlikely as it might be, he could hope.

 

“Night, Specs,” he heard Aranea say softly.

 

The fog of near sleep was too heavy for him to reply, but he mentally returned the kind wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sooooo my birthday is coming up on the 5th! *throws confetti* YAY.


	23. The Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone order 5.6k of Nyx-centric world building? RED did, so she just had to write it. Enjoy!

Nyx was never going to take the little things in life for granted again.

 

Inconsequential, everyday things – like breathing. Being able to breathe without pain was a distant memory by this point and something he missed rather a lot.

 

Things like twisting or stretching to reach for something without thinking, just instinct, only for bands of fire to wrap around his upper torso and _squeeze_ , leaving him shaking and gasping for breath.

 

Things like getting clean.

 

He wouldn’t consider himself overly vain when it came to his appearance, but at the very least looking presentable was important for making and maintaining people’s impressions of him. Although he supposed Highwind’s merry band of men had already seen him pretty damn close to his very worst, but still. He felt like a slob, and that needed to change – now.

 

Biggs was off doing something – Nyx didn’t know what, and it wasn’t his business anyway – which meant he had to ask Wedge for a hand in making it to the washroom. His pride hated it, but Wedge was nothing if not efficient – and quiet. The only time he spoke was to reassure Nyx that he’d be in hollering distance if he needed anything; then he vanished behind the closing door.

 

The final glimpse Nyx caught of Wedge’s expression haunted him as he gingerly set about the surprisingly labor-intensive task of preparing for a shower. Turned out undoing braids was rather challenging when he couldn’t find a comfortable position to hold his arms in.

 

But even the ongoing discomfort wasn’t enough to make him forget about the way Wedge’s eyes had been shadowed ever since Biggs had hit upon what was clearly a raw wound. When Wedge had reappeared a few hours ago, Biggs had pulled him aside, probably to apologize again, and although they had spoken for several minutes and appeared to still be on entirely amenable terms now, Wedge remained reticent – definitely more than normal – and at moments bore the appearance of a man who had lost his best friend.

 

Nyx winced as pain that had nothing to do with his ribs jabbed into his heart. Was that what he looked like too? He tried to figure it out as he leaned against the sink, letting it take some of his weight as he breathed the worst of the lung-clenching ache away and used the opportunity to examine his reflection in the mirror.

 

Six, he looked awful. Skin ashen and too tight where it was stretched over his bones, plumy bruising smudged beneath his eyes, hair both matted and frizzy. He looked like he’d gone on a week-long bender or something.

 

But no, he was just recovering from being impaled. _Again_.

 

Man, his life sucked.

 

Except that wasn’t exactly true either. He chose his vocation, after all – even if it was the only thing he felt he could do once Galahd fell – and he could have left the Glaive or even Insomnia whenever he wished. He knew the risks, accepted them. Protecting a Princess and his best friend was all part of the job.

 

Pelna. His best friend. Who’d have guessed? Not that there was anything wrong with Pelna – he was a fully competent Glaive and a good man to boot – but…

 

He wasn’t _them_.

 

And that was a rather dismal line of thought, so he shook his head – just hard enough to make his ribs twinge – and set about the unpleasant but involving task of unwrapping the bandages encircling his torso. It was hardly comfortable, but he was committed now, and the promise of a hot shower was more than a bit enticing.

 

The mirror wasn’t large enough for him to adequately inspect his wounds, which was just fine with him – he didn’t particularly want to see them at the moment. Or ever. The oddly textured skin beneath his fingers when he brushed them over his side was enough to confirm he hadn’t walked away from his latest near-death experience without some souvenirs. Physical ones this time too.

 

The realization made him pull his lips back in a silent snarl. Damn his broken ribs and the need to let them heal naturally. He didn’t _want_ scars here. He’d managed to escape such a fate several years ago, thanks to Highwind’s quick thinking, and honestly, it was far too tempting to risk bones warped from healing wrong if it meant he ended up with smooth, unmarked skin again. He already knew what death tasted like without having the evidence emblazoned across his skin, a permanent reminder that he wasn’t good enough.

_Nothing without the King’s magic_.

 

It was a poisonous thought, one he’d been attempting to tourniquet over the last few days, without much success. Sure, he protected the Princess and Pelna, saw them through to her next task, but at what cost? His own life, that’s what.

 

Hey, he just realized he’d died for both His Majesty and Her Highness. At least they were a matched set? Maybe he’d get another pay raise out of this – provided any of them lived that long.

 

He snorted – then grimaced as his ribs flared. Right, a wage increase was totally going to happen now that civilization was in ruins. Maybe the royal family had funds stashed away elsewhere – in fact, they probably did – but he couldn’t see them being used on anything except rebuilding Insomnia when that time came.

 

Which, that was fine. He was going to continue standing beside his King out of loyalty, not because he was still receiving the Captain’s wage. It wasn’t like he’d been uprooted from a particularly lavish lifestyle anyway. Although with how good showering felt, he could suddenly see why people were willing to pay for such a luxury.

 

The hot water helped ease the worse of the aches away – while he was under it. Drying off, on the other hand, was a slow, painstaking affair as his body stiffened up again, and redressing took a considerable amount of effort so he wouldn’t topple over halfway through.

 

He managed to remain upright, though, only to realize the washroom didn’t come equipped with any medical supplies. The twin wounds on the front and back of his side were scabbed over by now and would probably be fine, but… they went deep – _hah_ , understatement – and if nothing else, covering them would provide a bit more protection if he happened to jostle them by mistake.

 

Which meant leaving the steamy heat of the washroom. The comparatively chilly air that rushed over him when he opened the door made his skin prickle, and he tried to suppress a shiver to spare his poor ribs further torment. No wonder warmth was prescribed for promoting healing – the cold hurt too much.

 

He hadn’t taken more than three steps before, as though by magic, Wedge appeared at his elbow, offering his silent assistance. It wasn’t until they reached the glowing remains of the campfire and Wedge guided him to sit on a flat-topped stump the size of an end table that Nyx realized the other man had a worn leather bag slung over one shoulder.

 

“Field kit,” Wedge supplied in answer to the curious look Nyx sent its way. Wedge patted the bag once before dropping it beside the stump and taking a knee so he could rummage through it.

 

“You don’t–” Nyx started, but Wedge cut him off with a look.

 

“Broken ribs are the bloody worst. It’s no trouble.”

 

Well, he certainly wasn’t wrong, and Nyx didn’t want to seem ungrateful when he technically owed them his life, so after a few moments he dipped his head. Not having to twist would be nice.

 

He was flat unconscious last time his wounds were bandaged, and although the idea made his skin crawl, at least it had the advantage of not hurting. Still, Wedge was efficient – clearly he’d done this before – and in a few minutes Nyx’s torso was once more wrapped up.

_Kind of like a dead body_ , his brain oh-so-helpfully supplied. _Kind of like how Crowe and Libertus weren_ _’t_.

 

Grimacing, he stomped the macabre thoughts down. There was nothing he could do about either of them now. They were gone, lost to the likely still smoking rubble that had less than a week ago been Insomnia. Best not to think about them at all.

 

And yet the idea of letting them go forgotten grated against some instinct deep inside him. Ignorance of the fallen was not the Galahdian way. If only…

 

“Right.” Wedge sat back on his heels and dusted his hands off before tucking the unused items back into his bag. “Gotta go to the store to replace some supplies. Can I get ya anything?”

 

“No, I think I’m–” His last memory of Crowe flashed into his mind: her pale face, black veins surrounding her eyes, so still, so lifeless. It was like a specter and just as startling; he had to blink several times before it dissipated, sinking deeper into his thoughts once more. “Um. Actually…”

 

Wedge finished repacking the bag but remained crouching, fiddling with a buckle as he waited for Nyx to decide whether or not he wanted to voice his request. He had no desire to involve anyone else in a process he was supposed to do on his own, but there was no way he was up to browsing the store’s contents right now, which left him with precisely one option.

 

“Uh. A bundle of leather strips would be great. And a knife. One of those small carving ones or something. Simple.” He considered for a few moments more, and to his credit Wedge remained silent; only the continuing movement of the buckle betrayed he was thinking anything at all. “Not sure if they’ll have ’em, probably not, but if there are any large plain wooden beads… a few of those would be great.”

 

Maybe Nyx was imaging things, but he thought he caught a flicker of some sort in Wedge’s gaze before he nodded and rose to his feet, turning and walking away too quickly for Nyx to be certain of anything at all.

 

Not exactly true – he was certain his ribs hurt like hell after he talked himself into making the eight-foot walk to the nearest camp chair, into which he slumped with a drawn-out sigh. It was possible relying so heavily on magic for years had resulted in the diminishing of other skills. Like patience.

 

He wanted to… to what? Help Scientia and Highwind remove from the face of Eos the blight that was Loqi. All well and good. But what about when they succeeded? What was he supposed to do then? Join His Majesty’s entourage? Stay here with the men who saved him? Locate Her Highness and Pelna? Go elsewhere?

 

Perhaps it didn’t matter right now. One task at a time – that way he couldn’t get distracted.

 

Although he already seemed to be failing at focusing: he didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until they were almost in line with his chair, and he jerked upright, only to hiss and splay a hand over his protesting ribs. _Ow_. No more sudden movements for him until his bones were finished healing.

 

“’Pologies.” Wedge’s voice was even quieter than it had been earlier, though whether that was because he was trying to avoid startling him again or he was still feeling particularly subdued, Nyx wasn’t certain.

 

“Nah, it’s fine.” He waved the apology off with the hand not wrapped around his ribs. “My fault.” He really should have been paying more attention – what if the Empire had showed up and he hadn’t noticed?

 

He had no idea if Wedge believed him or not, but he didn’t seem inclined towards saying anything either way, instead holding up a bag that Nyx assumed contained his requested items. “Wiz didn’t have any beads,” Wedge explained as Nyx accepted the bag, “but he said you’re welcome to look through his woodpile for whatever you need if you want to make your own.”

 

That meant more walking and probably bending down, which sounded like a horrible idea, so for the moment Nyx just nodded. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back the moment I have funds again.”

 

“Eh, no worries.” Wedge shrugged and turned towards the fire, which had burned itself down to graying coals by now. “’S no trouble.”

 

“Still.” Nyx reached into the bag, fingers tangling around… yep, a bundle of narrow leather strips, exactly what he wanted. “I owe you guys for the timely save.”

 

“You say so.” Wedge busied himself with stoking the fire, back turned towards Nyx, leaving him with the distinct feeling this conversation was over – for now.

 

Since Nyx didn’t have the energy to argue the point further right now, he instead set the thin strips in one of the chair’s cupholders for safekeeping and reached into the bag again, this time withdrawing a slim but heavy leather pouch. A knife? No, a multipurpose tool, and not a cheap one either.

 

Looking up, he narrowed his eyes at Wedge’s back, giving it a long searching look, but if the other man noticed, he made no sign, remaining entirely focused on the flickering fire.

 

Suspicion needled Nyx, but it wasn’t the sort to make his hackles rise, so he pushed it aside for the moment, instead looking over the tool. It was heavy enough to be fashioned from a high-grade metal but not so large he’d find it awkward to use. The blades were incredibly sharp, and when he fit the knife into his palm, he was surprised by the slight flutter in his chest, a momentary burst of excitement at the thought of completing this task. Of course, it was immediately smothered again by the knowledge of why he was doing this in the first place, and he frowned at himself.

 

One task at a time.

 

He folded the knife and returned it to its pouch before reaching into the bag again. _Feels like my birthday_ , he mused, only for his breath to catch as pain punched through his heart when he withdrew the final item.

 

Like his birthday indeed.

 

His head snapped up so he could stare at Wedge’s back again, barely feeling the discomfort in his knitting-together bones.

_How did he know?_

 

As though he heard the question, Wedge straightened and turned around, expression just a bit too bland as he dusted his hands off. Definitely suspicious, and Nyx studied him hard as he lifted the small comb from the bag and held it up. “I never asked for this.”

 

Wedge shrugged, a benign movement that Nyx was beginning to suspect concealed a rather thoughtful heart – or a clever mind. “Seemed you could use one. ’Elp ya with those braids of yours.”

 

Despite his best efforts not to, Nyx tensed slightly at the cavalier comment, then grimaced when his ribs protested. “I can get along without it.” Although having one certainly made things easier than just using his fingers.

 

And his instinctive defensiveness was making him sound rather rude, now that he thought about it, so he forced his shoulders down into a more relaxed position. “Still… thanks.”

 

Wedge dipped his head, taciturn to the end, then reached for the cider, busying himself with it while Nyx looked over the comb. It was small, shorter than his palm, and nothing even remotely fancy, not like the engraved set he had – he’d had, anyway – in his apartment. Probably destroyed now. Still, this was functional and easy to store, perfect for his new lifestyle of living on the road.

 

Because now he really was without a home. Galahd wasn’t an option until they rooted the Empire out of Eos, and there weren’t any other large territories entirely free of the Empire’s rule like Insomnia had been. The small groups of people that had survived the city’s destruction were now refugees. That, at least, wasn’t an unfamiliar state of being for him, but once again not having anywhere to call home was an unpleasant realization, one that filled the bottoms of his lungs with lead, weighed them down, made it hard to draw breath when he thought about it too long.

 

All the more reason to kill Loqi and then put an end to the destructive Empire he represented. It wouldn’t make the world go back to the way it had been a week, a year, a decade ago, but it would certainly make him feel better.

 

“Want me to take it back?”

 

Nyx blinked, yanking his attention up off the tiny comb, an unexpected reminder of everything he’d lost, and focused on Wedge, who was sporting a slight frown different than the one he’d been wearing since earlier, less sad now and more concerned. “Hmm? Oh. No, it’s… fine.”

 

“Sure? You’re lookin’ a bit spooked.”

 

“Yeah. Just…” The words sat heavy on his tongue, jagged lumps of metal waiting for him to either choke them back or risk letting them fall somewhere beyond his control.

 

They were going to be forgotten unless he did something.

 

So he forced his mouth into motion. “Passing things down is a Galahdian tradition. Just reminded me of that.”

 

Wedge nodded once and picked up two mugs, stepping close to hand one of them to him before retreating to his own seat. The spicy-smelling liquid soothed a raw place deep inside of Nyx when he inhaled the curling steam, and for just a moment he allowed it to sweep him back to the memory of home: of his parents’ house and the laughter ringing off the walls; to his grandparents’ place and its ever-busy kitchen. Back to when life was simpler, happier, a time when more of the people he loved were alive.

 

Returning to reality – broken ribs, murdered friends, demolished homes, and all – wasn’t pleasant, but there was nothing he could do about any of it except push on.

 

Well, he mused, fingers tracing over the comb’s blunted teeth, there was very little he could do, which was slightly more than _nothing_ , and since he wasn’t exactly fighting fit right now, he didn’t have any excuses.

 

If he were to do things properly, he would carve beads from bone, shell, stone, wood – preferably those of Galahdian origin, but he didn’t have the luxury of being choosy now that trade routes were undoubtedly a mess. More important would be the inlays, making certain the appropriate patterns of grieving and remembrance were accurate. Not that he was liable to encounter many people who would recognize them, much less understand what they meant, but he would know. That was what mattered.

 

Mind made up, he set the comb aside and nodded towards the pile of wood stacked far enough away to not be a danger to the crackling campfire. “So. What’s Wiz got in there?”

 

Wedge glanced up from his mug, and this time Nyx was certain he didn’t imagine the change in his expression, blank hollowness giving way to something unmistakably thoughtful. “Not sure.” He stood and went to inspect the wood, waving Nyx down when he began to move. “I got this. Whatcha want?”

 

His willingness to help, bordering on eagerness, was perplexing, and Nyx almost asked about it, but instead he took the easy path of answering the question. “No idea. What’s there?”

 

Wedge dug through the pile and rattled off a list of names, less than half of which Nyx was familiar with. Beechwood? Maple? Sensible names. Wenge? Purpleheart? Odd, if not unreasonable. But sassafras? Padauk? Bubinga? Utter nonsense, if anyone were to ask him.

 

Wedge, it turned out, knew a startling amount about the subject, and Nyx became more and more intrigued as Wedge handed him chunks of wood and explained their various properties and uses. Balsa was no good for carving, he learned, except as a soft, forgiving variety to practice with. Teak wasn’t great either, with its tendency to blunt tools faster than normal. Some species were prone to worms, which destabilized their structural integrity, and others had interlocked or irregular grains, ones that twisted in unpredictable spirals that made them more difficult to work with than the straighter-grained species.

 

Was he going to remember all of this? Unlikely – Wedge had a startling amount of knowledge tucked away inside his head, or perhaps it just seemed like a lot because it was about a subject Nyx never would have predicted. But it was fascinating, and he found himself digging through old memories to get at what information he recalled from a time of his life he didn’t dwell on too often these days.

 

“I was always more interested in the people,” he admitted between inspecting the different pieces of wood Wedge kept bringing to him. “My grandfather and one of my uncles were woodworkers, though, so I did learn some basic stuff.” He exhaled a wry huff. “They wanted me to take over the business one day. I, of course, had grand dreams of becoming a nomad hunter and exploring the world.”

 

There was something bittersweet in Wedge’s smile. “I always wanted my parents to settle down. Live in a single place for more than a few weeks.”

 

Oh. No wonder he was still upset at losing the chance of having a normal, steady life. “Maybe once this is all over?”

 

“Maybe,” was Wedge’s noncommittal answer as he turned away to look through the pulled-apart pile again. Nyx got it – they had so much to do before that could become even a remote possibility – but they had to keep in mind what they were fighting for or they’d buckle beneath the monstrous task ahead of them.

 

Still, touchy subject, he understood those all too well, so he went back to looking over the wood he’d been handed. What he really needed was ebony, maybe some bloodwood, but so far they hadn’t found either, and he probably wasn’t skilled enough to work with them anyway. Maybe he could get there in time, provided he practiced enough.

 

He had plenty of time to – _hah_ – whittle away right now, so he took Wedge’s suggestion to begin with the easy-to-carve basswood and gave the rest of the chunks back so they could be inserted into the woodpile Wedge was reassembling.

 

Before anything else, though, Nyx had to sort out his hair. In the back of his mind, he’d been trying to determine how to keep all the braids he wanted, but so far he hadn’t been able to make it work, and if he was honest with himself, he knew it wasn’t possible. He was going to have to sacrifice one for the other.

 

The mere thought of giving up the twin braids he’d worn behind his ears since before he’d moved to Insomnia made his stomach clench around the few mouthfuls of cider he’d had, and he needed to tip his head back and just breathe, slow, steady, for long seconds before the discomfort began to ease. It didn’t fade entirely, same as it hadn’t back when he’d first joined up with the Glaive, angry and heartsick, and had to confront the loss anew every morning as he put in the twin braids, one for his murdered family, one for his plundered homeland.

 

He’d grown used to it, though, until the loss burned less intensely and less frequently, and it became routine more than it was the honoring tradition it began as and should have been. These new braids would become normal soon enough.

 

With that thought held in the forefront of his mind, he forced his hands into the familiar motions of combing through his hair and the unfamiliar motions of portioning out two parallel braids that started above his left temple and were stitched together with one of the leather strands. On the other side of his head he inserted a thick spiraling braid, one that felt only half finished without the necessary beads he hadn’t yet carved.

 

The motions were made awkward by a combination of doing them for the first time and a steadily growing discomfort caused by holding his arms up for so long, and the results were probably not as tidy as they should have been, but they would suffice for the moment.

 

By the time he was done, his ribs had turned into hot bands cinched too tight around his lungs again, restricting his breathing even after he lowered his arms and made a conscious effort to relax. There was no rushing his recovery, though, so once he felt less like a fish suffocating on dry land, he picked up the wood and his knife and got to work trying to figure out exactly how he wanted to do this.

 

Wedge tended to the fire once more and topped up their cider before sitting down in the chair beside his. It was closer than the seat he’d taken earlier, and it wasn’t until Nyx saw the fist-sized chunk of wood he was holding that he realized why. “You carve?”

 

From somewhere within his coat Wedge produced a knife, remarkably similar to the one Nyx was holding. “Yep. Biggs too, when ’e’s patient enough.”

 

“Huh.” He supposed it made sense – they probably hadn’t just played video games all these years on the run. Plus it was a good skill to have out here. “Neat. I wished I’d bothered to learn more now.”

 

“Mmm.” Wedge’s expression turned thoughtful again as he rotated the block of wood in his hands over and over so he could inspect it from all angles. “Mum was a carver. Had this ability, uncanny, I tell ya – could find whatever pretty creature was inside any old lump of wood and set it free.” He lapsed into a brief silence that Nyx didn’t feel compelled to break, then shrugged, visibly rousing himself. “Eh, I’m no good at it, never have been, but I can teach ya what I know. If ya want.”

 

“Really?” Whoops, nope, that sounded far too incredulous, even though he was just surprised that Wedge would offer in the first place, especially if it stemmed from a closely held memory. “I mean, yeah. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble. That would be great.”

 

The smile Wedge gave him was small but real, more genuine than Nyx had seen from him today. “’S no trouble, mate. No trouble at all.”

 

* * *

 

 

Within a few hours Nyx had fashioned a crude but serviceable bead he could use as a template for making more in the future, and Wedge was holding a roughly carved cone, apparently a horn from a duplicorn, though Nyx couldn’t see it yet. Their conversation had smoothed out the longer they worked, and Nyx found himself truly relaxing for the first time in weeks – months, maybe. It was nice to just hang out and do something he wasn’t terrible at, and Wedge was turning into a pleasant fellow to be around. He wasn’t too chatty, but he was knowledgeable and thoughtful, and his company was starting to ease the place deep inside Nyx that had been hurting ever since everything with the Empire had begun to go wrong.

 

Well. Since things had _really_ begun to go wrong. The Empire had a hell of a lot to answer for.

 

He’d just started on a second, hopefully functional bead when a low rumble rolled through the air, making him look up with a sharp frown. Another behemoth? This close to civilization? No, totally the wrong pitch. Then what…?

 

The ground trembled beneath them, an entirely odd and unsettling sensation. The vibrations had barely started to travel up through Nyx’s feet and into his legs before Wedge was leaping upright, knife glinting in the light thrown off by the stirred-up embers. The _thud_ s of their abandoned carvings hitting the ground were barely audible as Nyx shoved himself upright too, barely feeling the pain as adrenaline surged through him and he prepared himself for a fight.

 

What could _possibly_ be approaching them? Was it– had the Empire found them? Were they about to rain missiles down upon the farm? Was there time to run, to escape?

 

As suddenly as they started, the noise and the shaking died away, leaving an almost eerie silence to settle over the clearing. The birds and bugs couldn’t be heard; even the campfire sounded muted somehow, subdued.

 

“Um.” Nyx slowly looked around, squinting into the falling darkness as he tried to force his eyes to adjust. Damn, he shouldn’t have forgotten night vision was a thing. They really needed to get better at keeping their guard up. _He_ really needed to get better at keeping _his_ guard up. “Are we about to be eaten?”

 

When there was no immediate response, he turned to look at Wedge, suddenly concerned, only to realize the lack of answer was due to the way Wedge was typing furiously into his phone, not because of anything more sinister. Phone instead of running or fighting had to be good. Right?

 

He really, really didn’t want to have to run. _Ow_.

 

“Biggs, respond, ya lout,” Wedge muttered as he continued to tap away at the screen. He didn’t seem inclined to look up, so Nyx scanned the area around them once more, still not convinced they weren’t about to be ambushed – by beast or Empire or rogue faction of–

 

Again the ground shook, harder this time, sending a banner of sparks cascading into the air as the burning firewood shifted. Nyx swayed, reaching out instinctively for want of something to hold onto as he was abruptly reminded of the one and only time he’d ever been on a boat. Only this was more intense – and then it wasn’t, as once more the noise and the shaking faded away into nothing.

 

Turning to look first one way, then the other, Nyx took a slow breath, trying to listen past the rushing of his own blood, but it was like the world had gone silent again. _Creepy_.

 

Beside him, Wedge made a distinctly annoyed sound and jabbed at his phone before lifting it to his ear.

 

Several moments passed, then a burst of noise filled the air behind them. The sounds were familiar enough that they had Nyx’s hackles rising, though he couldn’t place them. Without thinking, he whirled around, fingers curling tight around the hilt of his knife as he raked his gaze over the deepening shadows. There were no enemies in sight, just Biggs jogging towards them. He was carrying several bags and simultaneously fishing about in his coat for what Nyx could only assume was his phone. Weirdest ringtone Nyx had ever heard, though. It reminded him of– oh, right, of course, the sound effects from that game they’d been playing.

 

“Oi, where’ve ya been?” Wedge demanded, stabbing at his screen again a moment before the jarring noise cut off. “I’ve been tryin’ t’ contact ya!”

 

“I heard.” Biggs gave up the search for his now silent phone and instead raised the bags he was holding. “I was gettin’ food and talkin’ to Wiz. News’s come in.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yup.” Biggs set the bags down on the first chair he reached and began rummaging through them. “Right, this one’s mine…”

 

Nyx’s skin felt damp and his hands were shaking slightly as he eased himself back down into his seat. It was just the combination of pain and backwashing adrenaline, totally not out of the ordinary or unexpected, but neither was particularly pleasant, and he was relieved Biggs made as effective a distraction as he did.

 

“And…?” Wedge prompted, waving off Biggs’ attempts to hand one of the bags over. “Anythin’ to do with the sudden quakes?”

 

Oh… earthquakes. That’s what those were? Nyx had only ever heard of them, never experienced one. Somehow it was both less and more than he expected. At least it meant the Empire wasn’t about to land right on top of them?

 

“Yeah. ’Pparently there’ve been several reports of tremors felt in the region now.”

 

“Does anyone know why?” Nyx asked when he was certain his voice would come out steady.

 

Biggs shrugged. “Not sure yet. Can’t be good, though.”

 

No. Earthquakes didn’t seem great in general, but especially now considering how unstable the world already was. Like things hadn’t fallen apart enough, now the ground itself was possibly going to break open beneath their feet too? Wonderful.

 

“Eh, we’ll be fine.” Biggs motioned towards the small piles of curled shavings around the chairs. “Been keepin’ busy, I see. Good, mate, that’s good. What’re you workin’ on?”

 

“Memoriam beads.”

 

Nyx shot Wedge a sharp look, one the other man missed entirely due to the way he was bending down to pick up his dropped carving. It was true, but Nyx _knew_ he’d never said what he was doing, because they were very much a deep, private part of Galahdian culture, one that wasn’t talked about in public settings.

 

“Ah.” Biggs’ gaze landed briefly on Nyx’s new braids before he nodded. “A fine way to honor Libertus and Crowe, mate. Very fine.”

 

That was all he said before turning away to straighten out the askew fire, but it left Nyx with more questions than he currently had answers, namely how they both knew so much about Galahdian customs. Neither man was from there – they would have said, and besides, Galahd had been a small enough region that all family lines were relatively easy to memorize.

 

Nyx studied both men for several long moments, confused and instinctively wary, even though he knew there was nothing to fear from either of them. They’d saved his life when they could have as easily left him to die. They just… happened to know some stuff he wasn’t expecting. That was all.

 

Right, and the earthquakes were nothing out of the ordinary either.

 

Sighing, he picked up his beads again. Somehow waiting for his ribs to heal had become the least difficult task ahead of him.


	24. The Base (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload!

 

The days were beginning to blur, Ignis mused as he and Aranea munched on their lunch behind their rock cover. Despite her contact’s info and assurance that the Empire had plans in the area, nothing had yet happened, and Ignis’ time with Aranea was starting to feel like a parody of some romantic getaway.

 

Here they were, in the wilderness and all alone with each other… and it was the most boring last few days imaginable. Not that boring wasn’t a good thing, given everything that had happened lately, but there were only so many games of cards they could play, and the on-and-off rain was tarnishing any pleasantness there might have been. Everything down to his _hair_ was even bothering him due to him being unable to style it like normal. At least they were able to use a nearby lake to maintain their hygiene, but Ignis was growing tired of his bangs constantly brushing and irritating his forehead.

 

One upside was that both of them were perfectly happy with silence. That at least spared the awkwardness, if not the boredom.

 

“Knock it off, Specs,” Aranea said suddenly, startling Ignis a bit.

 

Ignis blinked, looking up.

 

Aranea gestured at the food in his hands. “We’ve been camping for days – it may not be fancy but tastes great. Stop frowning at it.”

 

Ah. Well, yes, he had been frowning at their dull lunches. There was only so much he could do with the lackluster supplies they had. He’d been trying to pull as little from the Armiger as possible as to not take from what Noct and the others had. Now, if they stayed out here much longer, he might have to start pulling more, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

 

There had to be some development soon…

 

He sighed, leaning his head back against the boulder they were seated against as it started to rain again. Or… pour, rather.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ignis awoke the next day, it was to a loud shrieking from the sky and rays of sunshine across his face that were beaming in through the door. He blinked quickly, scrambling for his spectacles and shoving out of the tent. It had been Aranea’s time to keep watch, but she was up ahead, crouched by some bushes. The airship that was flying nearby wasn’t above them, but he figured she was just used to taking cover at a moment’s notice.

 

He slid into a crouch next to her.

 

“Morning,” she greeted, eyes still on the ship. “Figured I probably wouldn’t have to wake you for this.”

 

“Indeed.” Quite right she was there. Noct was likely the only one capable of sleeping through that sort of noise.

 

So… Aranea’s contact had been right after all. The Empire had been planning something for this area. The question now was… was Loqi at the head of it? They’d soon find out… Once they discovered a way to penetrate the defenses of the flying fortress that was setting down nearby.

 

“Well… this should be fun,” Aranea said dryly.

 

They spent the day planning. They weren’t able to scout the best during the day, but tree cover at least allowed them close enough to get a general idea of what they’d be up against.

 

“Any bright ideas, Specs?” Aranea asked as they returned to their campsite for lunch.

 

Ignis found it odd that she was asking him. Perhaps she was simply trying to make sure they were on the same page.

 

Well, this was his area of expertise. “A dark one, as it were. Even with our combined skills, open combat will not serve us well here, as we noted before. But, if we move under cover of night, we might be able to infiltrate the base unnoticed and glean some information on what they’re up to and who’s in charge of it all.”

 

“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” She smirked, as though amused by something she didn’t intend to share. Curious, but hardly alarming. With her levels of sass, she probably had a million and one inner jokes every day. “Nightfall it is. Let’s see if the worm has oozed himself into command with this newfound influence of his.”

 

Ignis scowled. It still bothered him that Loqi had any influence at all with his past. He’d make it a point to ask before he drove a dagger into his heart, if possible.

* * *

 

 

The hours before nightfall seemed to crawl, and when they finally arrived, Specs and Aranea set to work immediately. They entered the base with no issue whatsoever.

 

…Which was weird, to say the least. They’d seen patrols outside earlier.

 

“Where the hell are all the guards?” Aranea wondered as they crossed over the threshold at the door.

 

“I was wondering the same.” Specs was keeping his head on a constant swivel.

 

Aranea was doing the same. “It can’t be a trap. That’s too obvious. Loqi’s incompetent, but he’s not _that_ stupid. He can’t think _we’re_ that stupid.”

 

“We’re still going in, aren’t we?” Specs pointed out.

 

Aranea grunted in return as a trail of red energy swept through the air in front of them. “If we weren’t on a stealth mission, I’d say we should knock that thing out.” She didn’t like the idea of that generator strengthening all the opponents they might face.

 

“If we’re spotted, might I recommend that be our goal if we can’t reach the exit?”

 

That was a good plan. That way the MTs wouldn’t be as strong and they’d stand a better chance of fighting their way out if they needed to.

 

“Agreed.” She almost grinned. This was much better. Ever since they’d needed a plan, Ignis had been much closer to his normal self. Focused on the mission. Professional. It was good to see him back to that and not moping around and feeling awful. He’d made a good choice in coming to her and the boys. Staying out of events completely only would have depressed him further.

 

Specs suddenly ducked to the side to avoid some searchlights and Aranea followed suit, leaving them crouched behind a stack of crates.

 

“We should split up,” she suggested. “We’ll cover more ground that way.” There wasn’t a chance of it raining at the moment, so he’d be fine. She trusted him on that.

 

Specs gave her a single nod. “Very well. If we’ve not found anything in an hour, I recommend we meet here to discuss further action.”

 

“You got it, Specs.”

 

And so they split, sneaking off in opposite directions.

 

It didn’t take Aranea long to figure out that they probably weren’t going to find what – or _whom,_ rather – they were looking for here. At least not tonight. As of right now, she had yet to actually see a living thing in this base – all the forces were MTs.

 

Surely there was someone here to oversee things, but she doubted that was Loqi. He wouldn’t get a job of watching over a base of MTs…

 

“Come on – this way!”

 

Aranea ducked behind another crate, straining her ears. Okay, not so alone, then. There _was_ someone else in the base.

 

“Careful, Noct! That one almost saw you.”

 

“You wanna try this?”

 

“No, I’m just trying to make sure you don’t wake the whole base up before we even find the Regalia.”

 

“We’re fine. Lay off. I know what I’m doing.”

 

…What the hell were the chances? Pretty Boy and his gang were here? Why? …Well, to get their car back, apparently, but still. _Really?_

 

No wonder she and Specs hadn’t run into any guards by the entrance.

 

She followed along behind them, taking note of how much Pretty Boy had changed over the years. It was even less subtle than Specs. The boy’s demeanor was a thousand times more smooth and confident than before as he expertly warped and took out the guards around the area without alerting any of them.

 

She smiled. Specs would be proud when she told him.

 

* * *

 

 

The last thing Ignis had been worried about was Aranea getting spotted, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when the alarm started and the inactive Magitek engine nearby him suddenly lit up. He rolled behind a wall, likely narrowly avoiding detection himself as it stood up and stalked further into the base.

 

Ignis tailed it as best he could, trying to find some trace of Aranea. If she’d alerted the defenses, then she should have been heading for the generator like they’d agreed–

 

“Hey.” She slid into cover beside him, a move that was becoming very common for the two of them.

 

“Are you all right?” He kicked himself mentally for the question. Of course she was – she was right there. He could see she was all right. “What happened?”

 

“That, you’re not gonna like.” She pursed her lips as gunfire could be heard nearby. “We’re not the only ones here – Noct and the others are too.”

 

There were a lot of different emotions Ignis could have felt at that, but what took prominence was simply a question: why? Why were they here and why did they have to be here _right now?_ Weren’t they supposed to be in Lestallum?

 

“…Best we shadow them and jump in should they need assistance,” he finally said.

 

“I’ll jump in first if they do.”

 

Really. Bless this woman. “My thanks.”

 

As it turned out, Noct and the others didn’t need any additional help in taking out the generator. Or any of the other various troops trying to kill them. No… they appeared to be handling things quite well when _bloody Ramuh himself appeared out of the sky_ in another storm that hadn’t been there a few moments prior.

 

Their enemies didn’t stand a chance.

 

Goosebumps ran over Ignis’ skin, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as the air pulsed with electricity.

 

“Bloody hell,” Ignis breathed as the skies cleared as quickly as they had clouded.

 

“Well.” Aranea cleared her throat. “They’ve been busy. Looks like they’re handling things without you after all…”

 

_Handling things._ That was putting it mildly. Though he still had doubts about the status of their nutrition levels…

 

The two of them retreated behind cover near the Regalia. At least they hadn’t had to actually cross paths and complicate matters further.

 

Noct and Gladio and Prompto seemed to be in high spirits as they approached the Regalia, though Noct was looking a bit tired. Ignis let his mind drift back to the old texts he’d studied. How much would calling upon Ramuh drain Noct? Enough that he likely wouldn’t be able to do it again any time soon, Ignis assumed.

 

“Specs.” Aranea tapped him on the shoulder. “Obviously, Loqi isn’t here, and we can’t do more than they just did. We should go.”

 

Ignis nodded stiffly. Yes… They should. He didn’t need to torment himself with his friends’ proximity more than necessary.

 

The disappointment was almost like a third member of their party as they returned to their haven for the night. All these days… wasted. Loqi had never been there at all.

 

“There must be a better way to track his movements…” he muttered, dropping onto his sleeping bag.

 

“I wish there was, but no.” Aranea moved to sit beside him. “Whatever he did, they’re keeping his movements a secret. He’s… top priority now.”

 

Bloody hell. Ignis didn’t understand. He was missing a factor. A big one.

 

Ignis should have asked Regis to execute the bastard years back. The King probably would have granted him that if he’d known the truth. Maybe. Perhaps he would have rejected the request with a troubled sadness in his kind old eyes. Perhaps he would have tried to make Ignis see that letting Loqi live was being a better man since they weren’t in the heat of battle.

 

Whatever the case may have been, they were still left with the situation at hand.

 

Loqi couldn’t hide forever, no matter how important he’d made himself seem to the Empire.

 

It was only a matter of time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, guys? I’m heartbroken about the DLC… Angry, too. 
> 
> On the bright side I have awesome friends that throw me birthday parties when I’m feeling down.


	25. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APOLOGIES FOR THIS BEING LATE. I had to cover for a coworker who came down sick and had to go home. Happy thanksgiving week, everyone!

 

Disappointment and relief battled for dominance within Ignis as they headed back to the chocobo post. Loqi not being present and their mission being a waste of time was certainly another damper, but at the same time, Ignis was thankful his first true mission against the Empire with Aranea hadn’t involved him.

 

Loqi wasn’t there, but everything else had gone smoothly. They’d done what they needed to do perfectly. They’d handled everything, even with the surprise of the others showing up. _He_ had handled everything that had been thrown at him. Even the storms hadn’t caused any issues. Asking for things not to be unexpected was a bit much, but so long as he stayed alert, he might be able to keep functioning at least near his normal capacity, if not at it.

 

Ignis slipped off the back of his chocobo, leading the bird over to some water and greens.

 

“Looks like the others vacated the fire area,” Aranea noted, moving over and warming her hands above the flames.

 

“Should we message them and inform them of our return?” Ignis joined her at the fireside. It wasn’t particularly chilly at the moment, but it was still damp, and Ignis felt a bit cold himself. Nothing too bad, though.

 

“Maybe in a minute.” She waved to Wiz, who was walking towards them. “Let’s ask around here first.”

 

“Mornin’!” The man smiled pleasantly at them. “Good to see the two of you back again. You hungry?”

 

“Yeah, our supplies were running a bit low out there since _someone_ insisted on being so fancy with every meal.” She sent Ignis a teasing smile.

 

Wiz chuckled. “Well, your friends haven’t eaten either – they went down to the lake a few hours ago. Want me to box somethin’ up for you to take down?”

 

“That sounds most agreeable. Thank you.” Ignis nodded.

 

Though he was longing for a chance to actually bathe, food was definitely the first order of business, and the others still needed to be briefed. To the lake it was.  

 

Aranea moved to walk with Wiz to the front of his restaurant, but Ignis hesitated when his pocket gave a buzz, and he pulled his phone out instantly. He sucked in a slow breath when he saw it was from Noct.

 

**Noct:** You’re a dumbass if you really think YOU’re the one that needs US. You made things a lot easier, you know?

 

Ignis frowned. Until now, Noct had actually held off on trying to talk to him. Had his restraint finally cracked, or had something happened? That messaged seemed… specific.

 

He sighed inwardly. He had no restraint when it came to Noct in need, evidently, as his fingers were tapping out a reply before he even made the conscious decision to do so.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Has something happened? Do you need to talk?

 

This was probably a bad idea, but he owed Noct a chance to speak about what was bothering him after all they’d been through. Even if he still refused to give Noct any information on his whereabouts.

 

The typing icon appeared for long enough that Ignis assumed Noct was deleting and retyping several times.

 

**Noct:** …Didn’t think you’d actually reply.

 

**Noct:** Thanks.

 

**Noct:** The Empire showed up in Lestallum while we were gone.

 

**Noct:** Jared’s dead.

 

Ignis felt a familiar pang tug at his heart. He hadn’t actually known that Jared had survived Insomnia, but hearing that he had only to be killed now was distressing. Ignis remembered all too well how key Jared had been in taking care of Gladio and Iris – particularly Iris, given her age at the time – after their mother had passed. Clarus wasn’t an emotional man normally, but losing the love of his life, continuing with his duties to the Crown, and raising two children was too much for anyone to handle alone. Clarus had been grateful beyond words – something Ignis could remember realizing even at his own young age.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** I see. How is Gladio taking it? Is Iris there as well?

 

**Noct:** Yeah she’s here. Gladio’s playing his usual tough-and-macho roll to help her, but he’s definitely pissed.

 

**Noct:** Also, he’s an idiotic hypocrite.

 

Ignis almost chuckled, despite the dour circumstances. He could easily guess what Noct was referring to.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Lecturing you to open up and then bottling his own trouble up, I assume?

 

**Noct:** <Eye Roll Emoji> Why are ALL of us idiots that do that?

 

**Noct:** But yeah. I tried bringing up his dad the other day and he waved me off.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Perhaps we’re all ‘idiot hypocrites.’ And no, I don’t suspect he will want to discuss his father any time soon. Particularly after my departure, I’m afraid. He’s doing his duty as a Shield and placing all of your needs above his own, emotional and physical.

 

**Noct:** dkfjkladjsgkjgklfjdljgkljiHHISJFKLDJFKLFjfkd

 

**Noct:** jdfgisjgkljkdfjdfjjfdkkjdfkfk

 

**Noct:** I

 

**Noct:** HATE

 

**Noct:** THAT

 

Ignis glanced away from his phone and to Aranea as Noct continued to send screaming texts at him. It appeared she was hanging back near him and looking at a menu. “Aranea, I may be a few moments. Why don’t you go ahead to the lake with the food?”

 

Aranea raised an eyebrow at his phone. “Yeah, sure. Did you want anything specifically? And do you know what the Captain likes? I already ordered Biggs and Wedge something, but I wasn’t sure about you two.”

 

Despite the days they’d spent at this place, Ignis had yet to give the menu more than a cursory glance. He’d prefer something nutritional, but he also didn’t want to waste money and have to undertake more hunts than necessary. “Anything decently healthy that’s cheap will do fine.” Ulric probably had a different preference, but he was healing. He needed something that would help with that.

 

“Sure. Chocobo feed it is.” She winked.

 

Ignis sighed. Well, she wasn’t wrong. Humans could eat that feed.

 

She laughed. “I’ll get you both something good and cheap, don’t worry.” She gave his phone a look as it continued to buzz almost constantly.

 

“Thank you,” Ignis said, looking down at the phone again and scrolling through Noct’s spamming texts with little more than a glance. He was used to this. Noct always became quite vocal on text messages when he was irritated. Ranting there was far more common than him doing it aloud. Ignis had found it best to let him type until he’d run out of things to type.

 

Sure enough, the texts slowed after a few more moments.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Are you quite done?

 

**Noct:** …yes. For now. It still sucks though.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** So you’ve mentioned. Repeatedly.

 

**Noct:** …well at least you’re sounding like your normal smug ass self.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Language, Highness.

 

**Noct:** Normally I’d be irritated, but I’m kinda just glad you’re doing okay.

 

**Noct:** You are doing okay, right?

 

Ignis was rather pleased he didn’t have to lie or bend or stretch the truth by any means for his answer.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Yes, Noct. I’m actually doing better than I expected.

 

**Noct:** Yeah?  <Smirking Emoji>

 

Ignis frowned.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Now, what exactly is that supposed to imply, Noct?

 

**Noct:** Oh, give it a rest, Iggy. I’m not a moron. I know you’re with Aranea so knock it off.

 

**Noct:** And no matter how much she says you aren’t, I’m not buying it unless you tell me your supposed other location and it actually makes sense.

 

Blast it all. He supposed there really was no point in denying it, then.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** …I’d thought you’d be able to focus better if you believed I was off resting somewhere and out of danger.

 

**Noct:** …Specs, do you think I am an absolute idiot?

 

**Noct:** Honestly, with how long we’ve known each other?

 

**Noct:** With how well we know each other?

 

**Noct:** Did you really expect me to buy that you’d take off and go sit on a beach somewhere while the war kept going?

 

He had a point. Ignis admitted to himself that no, he didn’t actually expect Noct not to figure it out. Perhaps if they hadn’t had that talk on the pier, but that had all but guaranteed Noct knowing who he’d go to.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Hoped you wouldn’t, more of.

 

**Noct:** -_-

 

**Noct:** That was an asshole move, btw.

 

**Noct:** Leaving without saying anything.

 

Ignis moved over and slumped into a nearby chair at the fire. He admitted it rather had been, but he didn’t regret it. Saying goodbye to Gladio had been hard enough. If Noct and Prompto had been there, Ignis wasn’t sure if he could have actually gone through with it. Not to mention Noct might have tried to physically stop him as well.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** I am sorry, Noct.

 

**Noct:** I also especially find it to be an asshole move considering you didn’t even go sit things out like you were supposed to.

 

**Noct:** Hunting Loqi down?

 

**Noct:** How the hell is that less stressful or more likely to help you?

 

**Ignis Scientia:** It’s neither. But I’m not endangering you.

 

**Noct:** What about Aranea??? Wth, Ignis. If you really think you’re such a huge danger to those around you, then why are you hanging out with the woman you told me you care about?

 

Ignis gritted his teeth. He was really and truly regretting that conversation more and more as time went on.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Because Aranea is not my ward. She is a hardened mercenary who will do what she has to.

 

**Noct:** …you mean if you have an issue in battle, you don’t think she’ll save herself rather than help you.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** I mean she will do what she judges to be the best course of action, and her judgement will be sound given her years of experience.

 

**Noct:** …So MY judgement is what’s the problem, then?

 

Ignis growled under his breath in frustration.

 

**Ignis Scientia:** Yes. Neither of ours. If one of us was hurt in battle, the other’s safety would take priority. The difference between us is that I’m supposed to protect you. You, on the other hand, must place your own life above that of the rest.

 

The typing icon appeared and disappeared and reappeared several times.

 

**Noct:** …screw this.

 

Ignis didn’t even have time to frown again before the screen popped up with the incoming call. He only hesitated for a moment. Well… in for a gil…

 

He swiped on the screen, answering the call. He held the phone up to his ear without any greeting.

 

“ _How the hell does any King deal with this?_ ” Noct’s voice was raw. Tired.

 

They’d had this conversation before, but things were different now. Hypothetical situations couldn’t compare to people dying everywhere around someone.

 

“I’m afraid not every King has to, Noct.” Ignis massaged his forehead. “Not all of your ancestors carried a heart like yours. The bond between your father and Clarus… The bond you have with the three of us… Most past Kings wouldn’t have that. Letting others die in their place for the good of the world was likely a far easier feat.”

 

“ _Lucky me, I guess?_ ” Noct choked out. There was a pause, then Noct took another shaky breath. “ _Do you… ever wonder what life might have been like if we hadn’t been born into… this?_ ”

 

Ignis thought about it. Perhaps he had, but never in detail. It wasn’t like him to dwell on what could never be. …Unless it was Aranea. Something about her always managed to defy his logical outlook. Come to think of it, he had wondered what life might be like if he and Aranea had crossed paths in a different way.

 

“Not often, but even I’ve been known to daydream now and then. But, unlike you, Noct, I had a choice. I was honed from a young age for my position, but I wasn’t born into it. There are times I could have stepped down.”

 

“ _But you never would…_ ”

 

Ignis snorted. “And leave the three of you with someone lacking my patience? They’d go mad within a month.”

 

Noct sputtered out a laugh. “ _I’d give them a week. Maybe two._ ”

 

Ignis smiled faintly. Noct had been more verbal with his appreciation in recent years, but it was still nice to hear. “I hope you haven’t been giving Gladio too much trouble.”

 

“ _Maybe a little. We’re managing, though._ ” Something shifted in his tone, seeming more anticipatory. “ _What about you and Aranea?_ ”

 

Ignis sighed. Why? Why had he ever told him?

 

“ _Oh, come on!_ ” Noct borderline whined. “ _The two of you off on a secret mission all alone with your history? That’s, like, textbook romance scenario!_ ”

 

“…This isn’t a video game, Noct.”

 

“ _It’s still a prime scenario._ ”

 

Ignis sighed again. “Noct, we’re working to assassinate someone. All other issues with this aside, that’s hardly an ideal circumstance for a start to a romantic relationship. And _those_ issues aside, Biggs and Wedge and Nyx have been around as well.”

 

“ _Yeah, but–_ ”

 

“Noct,” Ignis deadpanned. “We’ve been over why things wouldn’t work between her and I.”

 

Noct made a strangled noise. “ _Ask. Her. To. Join. Us._ ”

 

Ignis snorted. “Yes, ask the survivor and mercenary if she would like to throw her lot in with a small group being hunted by the world’s largest and most dangerous government when we have no means of pay.”

 

“ _Well, she’s helping you now!_ ”

 

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because Loqi has a personal vendetta against her and her men.”

 

“ _Just at least let her know it’s an option! Seriously! She doesn’t have to take it, but let her know it’s there!_ ”

 

“Fine. If only to stop your pestering.”

 

“ _I could royally order instead of pestering if you want._ ”

 

“Don’t you dare.”

 

They fell quiet for a moment.

 

“ _…I need to go,_ ” Noct said finally. “ _We’re making travel plans for the Hidden Harbor._ ”

 

“Ah. A wise move.”

 

“ _Don’t… don’t go radio silent on us again, okay?_ ”

 

“I won’t. I give you my word.” There was no reason to now that Noct wasn’t going to yell at him to come back. Plus, he was in a better frame of mind now himself. “I’m still here if you need me.”

 

“ _Yeah. Back at you, Iggy. Take care._ ”

 

“I will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, is anyone going to Kupocon in Toronto??


	26. The Time

 

Despite what had just happened to Jared, Noctis couldn’t wipe the grin from his face as he hung up the phone. He hadn’t expected Ignis to answer a text, let alone a call. And now they were back to being able to talk in general. He’d say it was more than he’d hoped for, but he hadn’t even been hoping a few minutes ago.

 

Six, it was so good to hear Ignis’ voice again. So good to hear that he was okay – that he was with people who would watch his back. And Noctis did believe that Aranea would watch Ignis’ back. Ignis could say all he wanted about Aranea being a mercenary, but she’d risked her neck for them before, and she wouldn’t have kept in contact with Ignis all this time if she didn’t care about them.

 

Plus, Nyx was there too.

 

…Though, Noctis wasn’t sure how great of a team that really was. If a gun went off, they’d probably try to fight each other over who was going to take the bullet.

 

Self-sacrificing, stupid, annoying, loyal, lovable saps.

 

Noctis pocketed his phone, turning to face the hotel room’s door right as Gladio and Prompto pushed through it.

 

Gladio – who was understandably looked pissed off – scowled. “Win the lottery or something, Princess? Last I checked, there wasn’t a lot to be smiling about today–”

 

“I just talked to Ignis,” Noctis blurted out. They all needed the good news. “I shot a text at him, and he actually answered, and then we ended up with an actual call.”

 

Gladio and Prompto were so stunned that they were quiet for a second, but then the questions started.

 

“Wha– what did he say?”

 

“What did you talk about?”

 

“How did he sound?”

 

“Did he say where he was?”

 

Noctis held his hands up, waving frantically. “Geez, guys! I’m magical, but I’m not that kind of magic! Slow down!”

 

They fell silent again, and then Gladio took a breath, asking his question at a normal pace. “What can you tell us?”

 

Noctis sighed, collecting his thoughts as he took a seat on the end of the closest bed. “Well, we were right… He’s with Aranea and Nyx.”

 

Gladio snorted. “No shit.”

 

Noctis smirked. “I don’t know where they are, just that they’re all together. He… sounds like he’s actually doing okay at the moment.”

 

Gladio made a face. “He sounded like himself before what happened that made him leave, too…”

 

Noctis shook his head. “Nah. I can tell the difference. He’s better than he was then. Maybe not a hundred percent, but better.”

 

“Wait… but… isn’t he helping track down Loqi, then?” Prompto chewed on his lip, looking worried.

 

Noctis frowned. “Yeah. I’m not too happy about it, but at least he’s got Nyx and Aranea watching his back.”

 

“…Sort of,” Gladio said.

 

“Sort of?” Prompto echoed.

 

Gladio crossed his arms. “Nyx isn’t really in the condition to be watching people’s backs from what we heard.”

 

…Fair point. “Well, he’s got Aranea and Biggs and Wedge, then. They’ve got more experience out here than us.”

 

“But no magic,” Gladio noted.

 

Noctis shrugged. “Well, they’ve made it this far. And they owe Ignis and me. They’ll keep a good eye on him.”

 

Gladio nodded. “Just hope it’ll be enough– _ow!_ ”

 

Prompto was giving him a dirty look, having just kicked the bigger guy in the shin. “Okay, Captain Negative, can we have a second to be happy that he’s doing okay before we start moping about every possible thing that might go wrong?”

 

“I’m just being realistic.”

 

“No, you’re being pessimistic. Big difference. Big.”

 

“Not with our lives right now, it isn’t.”

 

“Oh, knock it off.” Noctis snatched a pillow off the bed and chucked it at both of them, managing to hit them both. “Anyway, he’s agreed to keep in touch. No more walls of silence.”

 

“Oh, good, maybe we’ll actually make plans for stuff again…” Prompto’s shoulders sagged in clear relief.

 

“Hey!” Gladio snapped.

 

“We make plans!” Noctis protested. They may not have been as good as Iggy’s plans, but they were plans.

 

“Guys, we ended up following the Chancellor of the Empire to where we almost got melted with lava,” Prompto said flatly. His eyes lit a moment later. “Ooooh, I can text Ignis on new recipes!”

 

“No, that’s not right.” Noctis grinned.

 

“Huh?”

 

“You’re saying it wrong.”

 

Prompto blinked blankly. “Recipe?”

 

“Yeah, see, that’s wrong.” Noctis cleared his throat, summoning up his best Ignis impression. “It’s _recipeh_.”

 

Gladio snorted loudly.

 

Prompto choked on his sudden laughter. “Nice, Noct. Real nice!”

 

Yeah. It was nice. Being able to joke about Ignis and not feel like he’d been punched in the gut just at hearing his name was _real_ nice.

 

* * *

 

 

Finding the others at the lake wasn’t difficult, but it was odd. Ignis had expected Biggs to be moving about and making conversation – playfully splashing water at the others perhaps. He was not. In fact, none of them were moving around much at all. Aranea was passing around the food, but the other three men were all in chairs on the pier, looking from a range of bored to miserable as Wedge drew in his fishing line.

 

Nyx and Biggs were without any fishing gear, and Biggs appeared to be alternating between staring at a frog that was hopping around in the shallow water nearby and swatting at bugs around him. Nyx at least appeared to be busying himself with carving something, but he didn’t look much happier.

 

“Well, now, I can see this is a lively affair…” he mused as he reached the pier and moved to join them at the end.

 

In all honesty, the sight was familiar and entertaining. How many times had a similar scene occurred with Noct’s fishing habits? He and Gladio and Prompto never knew if they’d be sitting there for minutes or hours. Hours was generally the more likely answer. It had gotten to the point once where Gladio had bought them all movie tickets just to avoid another trip to the lake Noct fancied in Insomnia.

 

“This is the most bloody boring hobby to ever exist.” Biggs slapped himself on the neck, grimacing. “Why the ’ell are we doing this?”

 

“Got a better idea?” Wedge griped.

 

“Yeah: anything.”

 

“Well, it’s too bloody cold to swim, and ’e couldn’t anyway.” Wedge jabbed his thumb at Nyx, who continued carving away at the wood in his hands.

 

Biggs sulked, sending Nyx a look. “This is your fault. You could ’ave done that back while we played video games.”

 

“The air is fresher here,” Nyx said, not looking up.

 

“The air’s crawling with blood suckin’ daemons!”

 

Ignis chuckled, stopping beside Nyx’s chair. “I’m not certain mosquitos classify as daemons.”

 

“The ’ell they don’t…” Biggs muttered. “Like sleeper agents…”

 

Aranea snorted. “An unnoticed task force of female vampire daemons? I like it.”

 

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll write a book.” Biggs smirked, only to scowl again as he swatted another bug on his arm. “So, you said Loqi wasn’t there?”

 

Ah. Yes. There went the air of amusement and comfortability.

 

Aranea, having finished dealing out the food, threw a rock that skipped a few times on the surface of the water before sinking. “Nope. The weasel never was. My contact _did_ say it was a guess based on the secrecy of the project and how closely they’ve been guarding Loqi’s movements, so it’s not all that surprising. Just annoying.”

 

Very. But, as Ignis had thought before, the trip had not been without merit. At least not to him. He wondered if Aranea felt anything had been gained at all.

 

“So… back to the waitin’ game?” Biggs asked.

 

“Looks that way.” Aranea tossed another stone. “Maybe next time you oafs can join us.”

 

“You get info on that bastard again and I’ll be ready.” Nyx punctuated his words with a particularly strong jerk of his carving tool.

 

Aranea side-eyed him. “Make sure that temper stays in check there, Captain.”

 

Nyx’s hands stilled as he looked up to glare at the lake. “Don’t call me that.”

 

That earned a raised eyebrow from Aranea and Ignis both. Oh, dear… Ignis knew Nyx had to be suffering the loss of his comrades, but he hadn’t seen the extent very much until now. Of course Nyx would feel bad for what was technically his Glaive turning against the throne, but outright refusing his title was testament to how deep that guilt was.

 

Ignis felt a rush of pity for the man. He had seen that Nyx hadn’t particularly cared for the position in the first place, even if Ignis personally thought he’d been brilliant in it.

 

Still, he wasn’t one to judge or argue about such a thing given the choices he’d made as of late.

 

“What would you prefer us to call you, then?” Ignis asked lightly, trying not to make it a big deal.

 

Nyx continued to stare at the water for a moment. “Ulric’s fine.”

 

How… odd. As far as he recalled, Nyx had always insisted on most people addressing him by his first name.

 

“Very well, then,” Ignis agreed pleasantly. “That is the name we’ll use.”

 

Nyx gave a dry, humorless smile. “Thanks, Scientia.”

 

“Ignis,” Ignis corrected. “Specs is also acceptable, on occasion.”

 

“Great,” Aranea said. “Then while we’re at it, let’s ditch this ‘Commodore’ and ‘Highwind’ crap.”

 

Nyx looked like he was going to turn in his chair, but then thought better of it and just craned his neck to look at her. “Lady A, then?”

 

Aranea’s face of revulsion was a clear answer. “Absolutely not. Only these two idiots get that privilege.” She nodded to Biggs and Wedge respectively. “Aranea is fine. Though I’ll accept Miss Highwind from Specs.”

 

Both of Ignis’ eyebrows shot up at that.

 

An oddly pleased grin spread across Biggs’ face, and he wagged his eyebrows at Wedge, who rolled his eyes.

 

…Oh, Shiva, not them too. He’d been around Noct and Prompto and Gladio more than enough to read what that was about.

 

Why was everyone making their relationship into what he wanted it to be rather than what it actually was? It was bloody hard enough keeping his feelings in check without everyone encouraging him on a path that was sure to be a disaster.

 

The name meant nothing. He’d simply been calling her that long enough that she was used to it and it didn’t bother her. After all, she just said that only Biggs and Wedge were allowed to use her other nickname, and she certainly wasn’t romantically interested in either of them. Nicknames were always… something with her. She seemed to have one for everyone she met, so perhaps many people happened to have ones for her.

 

At least Wedge seemed to be trying to ignore Biggs. Ignis made a mental note not to call Aranea ‘Miss Highwind’ in front of Biggs. Ever. Or Noct, if they all happened to meet up in the future.

 

…Or would calling her by just her first name be the thing that would encourage Noct more?

 

Blast. There wasn’t much of a way to douse this fire if all parties were involved. Well then, he’d _find_ a way. He refused to endure this torment.

 

…Torment. He was hunting the man who’d kidnapped and tortured him, and yet he was considering this torment.

 

His life was strange.

 

“Works for me.” Nyx went back to his carving.

 

Ignis took a moment to study their little group. There was no telling when the next time Aranea’s contact would get back to them, and there might be more dead ends. It might be best to get used to the dynamics here.

 

Perhaps they should do some team building exercises in their free time.

 

Or… would letting their relationships play out naturally be a better route?

 

Perhaps he could wait a few days and see how things fell. After all, it certainly looked like they had the time.

 

Yes… that sounded as though it would be best. Perhaps he could prod them in the direction of some card games and them let things unfold. Other activities could wait until Nyx was further along in his healing, if things took that long.

 

Either way, they’d be ready when it came time to truly confront Loqi.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy thanksgiving, everyone! :)


	27. The Setback

 

The human mind was a strange and wonderful thing, Ignis mused. The human body was as well, but it was amazing how much more quickly their minds were able to adjust to the new way of things compared to how slowly Nyx’s injures were healing.

 

It had only taken them a few days to adapt to their new routine at the chocobo ranch. With no idea when Aranea’s contact would get back to them again, they’d fallen into shifts for everything that needed doing while they waited. Hunts, bandage replacing, food, and balancing finances… they had a system now for all of that, one that got smoother with each day.

 

Unfortunately, the days just kept ticking by. With time blurring by as it was, Ignis was surprised when he realized it had been multiple weeks since he’d first met up with Aranea. Perhaps the wait was good, however, because Nyx was on his feet again. Sore, slow, and a little shaky, but on his feet nonetheless, even if he wasn’t quite ready to take on their daily hunts yet. He was, however, ready enough that he ran through various dagger forms before or after their meals.

 

More often than not as of late, the five of them were spending their days by the lake, enjoying the warmer turn of the weather that had rolled in last week. It was pleasant, in a way. Ignis was still worried for Noct and the others, but he knew they were safe for the moment given that they’d been shooting him updates rather regularly. His concern at present was that Gladio was apparently not with Prompto and Noct, although they did have Monica filling in while he was gone. Ignis wasn’t uneasy, per se… but while Monica had years of experience on Gladio, she lacked experience fighting at Noct and Prompto’s side. But even so… at least the two of them were bound to be eating better. That was definitely a positive.

 

Meanwhile, Ignis had taken over meals of their group of five. There were no shifts when it came to that. Everyone was happier when he cooked, including himself. It was nice. Even though it was for a different group, it felt pleasantly normal. In fact, bringing lunch down to the lake and joining the others there was beginning to feel normal as well.

 

Ignis could hear the cheers and ruckus of Biggs before he could see them, and he smiled as his companions came into sight. While Aranea was sitting in a chair on the dock and Nyx was doing dagger drills in the grass, it appeared Biggs and Wedge had deemed the weather warm enough to take a swim. The two men were gleefully having a splashing war.

 

“Lunch,” Ignis called, making sure to be loud enough that they’d hear him.

 

Aranea glanced at her phone and grinned. “Right on time, as usual. You keep a timer in your pocket to plan everything perfectly, or is that your inner robot showing through?”

 

Ignis smiled faintly. The longer they stayed around each other, the more comfortable she seemed to be about teasing him, and the less he seemed to mind. In fact, he was growing rather – extremely – fond of their day-to-day interactions. There was an ease that had settled over them both after their mission together. The mission and, well, the lack of rainy weather didn’t hurt either.

 

“Oi, Specs!” Biggs grinned, only to get hit in the face with a splash while he was distracted. He retaliated at Wedge before continuing. “Why don’t you join us?”

 

Ignis reached the end of the dock, setting the basket of prepared food next to the chair Aranea was seated in.

 

She glanced at Biggs and then to Ignis, fondly rolling her eyes as her shoe got splashed.

 

He gave her a faint smile in return. “No, thank you, I’d rather have lunch.” Biggs meant well, he knew, but even if Ignis had never had much of an issue swimming before, swimming wasn’t one of his favorite hobbies even without the chance of it sending him into a panic attack. Not that it really would. So long as he was prepared before he went in.

 

The splashes subsided a bit, and Biggs let out a huff of air. “Oh, come on! You never let loose and ’ave fun!”

 

“Food is fun,” Ignis retorted, taking a sandwich from the top and handing it to Aranea. “And I am more than willing to play games with you back at the post.”

 

“Drop it, Biggs,” Aranea said casually, and Ignis inwardly thanked her.

 

Biggs huffed again, reaching the dock and hoisting himself onto it. “Gonna ’ave to let your hair down one of these days, mate.”

 

“He has been.” Aranea smirked. “And it looks lovely.”

 

Ignis shot her a glare. It hadn’t been his choice to start wearing his hair down like she liked, and she bloody well knew it. It was just that Wiz’s shop didn’t sell hair gel, and the hunters around certainly didn’t keep it in stock.

 

Biggs scoffed, but was soon distracted by his own lunch, which he promptly started wolfing down. Wedge joined him seconds later. Nyx, however, finished up his dagger form before setting the weapon to the side and accepting his own food. By the time he did so, Biggs was already halfway done with his meal.

 

Ignis resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was all of humanity secretly composed entirely of overgrown children, or was it just the people he ended up working with and caring for?

 

Ignis leisurely ate his own lunch, leaning against Aranea’s chair, as Nyx and Wedge had taken the other two chairs. He nearly rolled his eyes yet again when Biggs finished eating and promptly jumped back into the water.

 

“It’s advisable to wait after eating before you swim,” Ignis chided.

 

Aranea snorted. “Like that’s gonna stop him.”

 

Biggs treaded water right at the edge of the dock. “Oh, come on! I’m barely a few feet from shore. I’ll be fine!”

 

“If you’re not, I’m not jumping in after you,” Aranea said, her voice monotone as she pulled her phone out of her pocket when it started buzzing.

 

Ignis set his sandwich to the side, hopeful. “Your contact?”

 

“Yeah, looks like.” Aranea scrolled on her phone. “Long message. May actually have something this time.” She skimmed the message for a few moments more. “Multiple somethings, actually.”

 

Multiple leads? After this long of nothing? That might complicate things. Ignis wasn’t keen on the idea of splitting up if they had two locations that needed checking out, but it would be a waste of time to all go to one. Now, as for what the teams would be–

 

“Biggs, _don’t!_ ”

 

Ignis barely had time to register his foot being yanked out from beneath him before he was hitting the water.

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea had just enough seconds to curse at herself. How long had she known Biggs, dammit? She should have known he’d do this, trying to be funny. Trying to play a joke and make Specs feel more included. Biggs had no idea what he might have just done.

 

But Ulric apparently did. He must have seen what Biggs was up to just before she did, because Aranea didn’t even have time to get out of her chair before Ulric was tearing past her, diving off the dock into the deeper part of the water near where Specs had just fallen.

 

“Oi! What’s wrong?” Biggs’ grin was still present, but it was faltering. “It was just a joke! ’E can swim, can’t ’e?”

 

Aranea halted at the edge of the dock. Her jumping in too would do no good if Ulric already had Specs – she’d just be crowding things. “Swimming isn’t the problem!”

 

Her tone or her expression must have clued Biggs in on how serious things were, because his grin dropped like a stone.

 

Ulric surfaced, Specs nearly dragging them back under with his wild thrashing.

 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, he was definitely out of it.

 

Aranea darted back to where she’d dropped her phone, hastily pressing the speed dial that she’d never actually reset since getting the phone.

 

Ulric was grimacing deeply as he reached shore, dragging Specs out as he kept wildly throwing elbows and shaking, a glazed trace of panic on his face.

 

The other end of the line kept ringing. And ringing. And ringing. Generic voicemail.

 

Dammit.

 

She hung up, jabbing her finger onto the next speed dial.

 

Ulric had managed to grab both of Specs’ hands, holding them in his, but not making any attempt to pin them down as he took several sharp-sounding breaths. “Ignis, whatever you’re seeing right now, it’s not real. You’re at the chocobo post with Highwind and her men, remember?”

 

His words didn’t seem to be having much – if any – effect. Specs couldn’t _hear_ him.

 

Amicitia didn’t pick up either.

 

Aranea jabbed the screen again, this time punching in another number that she’d had to memorize – the blond kid’s number for the phone he had now.

 

Biggs was out of the water again, hands pressed to his mouth as he stared in horror. He was almost as pale as Specs himself as Wedge backed him up with a supportive hand on his shoulder.

 

“Ignis, listen to me.” Ulric’s voice was remarkably calm as he released one of Specs’ hands and helped him sit up slightly. “You fell into the lake, that’s why you’re wet now. You’re among friends, none of us are going to hurt you.”

 

The ringing phone cut off.

 

“ _Helllooooo?_ ”

 

“Pass the phone to the Prince,” she demanded. “And tell him to answer his own damn phone next time.”

 

“ _Wha…_ ”

 

“Now!”

 

There was some fumbling on the other end of the line.

 

“ _Um, hello?_ ”

 

“It’s Aranea.” She cut straight to things. “Listen – what do you do to calm Specs down if he’s having an attack?”

 

“ _…Shit. How bad is he? What happened?_ ”

 

Aranea still had her eyes locked onto Ulric’s failed attempts to bring Specs back to reality.

 

“Well, I haven’t seen any other times, but bad. There was an accident and he fell in a lake.” Never mind maybe telling the kid where they were – this was too important.

 

“ _Dammit… Okay. Okay, okay, okay._ ” The kid took a breath, the sudden calmness of his tone speaking of his experience with matters like this. “ _You need to gently stretch his arms out in front of him, then try pinching the pressure points on his palms. Don’t hold his wrists, just the pressure points. Talk to him. Don’t raise your voice if possible. Just be loud enough that he can hear you. Make sure he’s not lying down, and keep any kind of towels the hell away from him._ ”

 

She relayed everything to Ulric in a hushed, quick tone, and he instantly complied with everything he could.

 

“ _Music. Sometimes music helps, if he can actually hear it. Maybe have it ready for when he comes back to you._ ”

 

“Biggs, give me your phone!” Aranea didn’t even look to see if he was complying, but a few moments later and a second phone was shoved into her free hand.  

 

Specs’ breaths finally began to slow as Ulric kept talking to him and squeezing the pressure points on his hands in particular patterns.

 

Aranea found a softer song on Biggs’ phone, setting the device near Specs’ side so that the low volume would hopefully be able to reach him. It was some minutes more before Specs actually seemed aware enough to notice her and Ulric crouched down in front of him.

 

Ulric cut off his string of reassuring words mid sentence. “Ignis? Specs? You back with us?”

 

The first shift in Specs’ expression was one of pure misery as he took in what was in front of him. “…Bloody hell. Not again…”

 

“It’s all right, Specs.” Aranea tried not to make her tone too gentle. He needed her to be normal.

 

“ _Is he back?_ ” Noct yelled on his end of the line, making Aranea jerk her phone away from her ear briefly.

 

Specs locked onto the phone instantly, gently tugging his right hand free from Ulric’s grip and holding it out. “Might I?”

 

“Yeah, of course.” Aranea handed the phone over, tapping Ulric’s shoulder and getting him to back off along with her as she rose to her full height. “Come on… let’s give him some space.”

 

They’d need a minute. And… she really needed to talk with Biggs now.

 

Damn it all.

 

This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

 

They knew where Loqi was…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Anyone gonna be at Kupocon? Because I am!


	28. The Relapse

 

It was honestly hard to tell who was the most miserable of their group the next few hours. Despite being rather irritated at Pretty Boy for calling her every five minutes, though, Aranea knew it wasn’t her. No, it was definitely down to Biggs and Specs.

 

Ulric had taken them back to the shop room with a mutter about getting him some dry clothes, but Aranea knew they’d be a while. If she had to hazard a bet, she’d say Specs wasn’t coming out for the rest of the day. Which wasn’t a bad thing, per se. Pretty Boy had said Ignis needed a few hours to himself or to sleep and such after an attack usually. If they _did_ see him again this evening, Aranea suspected he wouldn’t be talking to them much. More likely, he’d find something to cook.

 

Yeah, Specs was definitely going to be in a morbid mood for a while when they did eventually see him, but Aranea wasn’t sure even a PTSD attack was going to top how awful Biggs looked like he felt – he’d been staring into the fire for ages with an untouched cup of cider in his hands and a permeant wrinkle in his bow. The guilt he must have been feeling had to be next to immeasurable if she knew anything about Biggs, and she knew him very well. It wouldn’t matter how many times someone told him it wasn’t his fault, he was still going to keep on carrying that guilt.

 

Aranea sighed, glancing down at the phone in her lap. Looked like Pretty Boy had finally taken the hint and stopped calling for the moment, but she figured he wouldn’t hold out too long.

 

“Mate,” Wedge said his usual naturally rough tone. “You didn’t know.”

 

“I should ’ave acted faster…” Biggs’ voice was barely a hoarse whisper.

 

Wedge tilted his head in a silent question, and Aranea found herself wondering what he was talking about as well. Ulric had jumped in the water before everyone had even realized there was a problem, and it wasn’t like he took a long time about it either.

 

“Ulric was already on the move. You couldn’t have done better,” Aranea said. Six, she respected and understood Specs not wanting to spill his life traumas to everyone he met, but this wasn’t exactly a better alternative.

 

Biggs shook his head absently. “Not today. _Then._ ”

 

Oh. Oh, good grief. Aranea rolled her eyes. “Biggs, you got shot and almost bled out as things were… You didn’t exactly have a ton of options. None of us did then.”  

 

Biggs shrugged half-heartedly. “I could’ve acted sooner when Loqi dragged ’im off…”

 

“And then you’d have been shot sooner and probably bled out before you got help,” Aranea said flatly. Ugh. She refused to put up with this crap.

 

Biggs shrugged again, but he didn’t argue. “I never even thought… ’As ’e been dealin’ with this ever since then?”

 

Aranea grunted. She wasn’t going to lie to him. “It’s been a while since it was this bad. He’d had a handle on things until the attack on Insomnia. Triggered this… relapse.”

 

Biggs’ grip on his mug tightened. “And I just made it worse.”

 

Aranea inwardly screamed at him. “It was his choice not to tell you. He knows that’s a risk whenever he’s with someone.”

 

Astrals, this sucked. Everyone was going to be moping, and even if that wasn’t annoying on its own, they didn’t have time for it. Granted, she’d rather have Specs in good health than kill Loqi, but she was wary of what Loqi might be up to with his newfound power.

 

If he wasn’t going to eventually start trying to hunt them down, then her name wasn’t Highwind, and she’d much rather be on the offensive.

 

But now she had no idea if Specs was going to be up for that. Texts were a very different thing than personal actions. His texts were always perfect because he had time to refine them.

 

How stable was he after one of these things?  

 

——————————————————————————————————————————

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Nyx snorted, dropping a spare blanket next to the bed he’d gotten Scientia to sit on. “Yeah, sure.”

 

Ignis sent him a half-hearted glare. “I’m managing.”

 

Well, that was closer to the truth, at least. “That’s a start.”

 

“I _will_ be fine.” Scientia had his hands clasped together in his lap. “Perhaps a slight case of the jitters for a while, but likely nothing more. That’s how things usually transpire.”

 

Usually. If _usually_ was even a word Scientia associated with his condition, then he was far worse off than Nyx. Nyx would have used _occasionally_ for his own crap. Maybe. If he felt like describing it. Which he didn’t. Ever.

 

Moving on. “You want me to grab you some stuff from Wiz’s for you to cook with?”

 

Scientia hesitated. “Later… yes. That would be favorable.”

 

“Consider it done.” Simple things like that he could handle. Maybe he should grab some paper and get Scientia to make him a list later.

 

For now, though… For now Scientia just needed to rest. That much was clear.

 

…Oh, and dry off. That might help things a bit too.  

* * *

 

 

Ignis sighed, trying to will his hands to be steady as he cut the carrots before him into more chewable pieces. He wished the others would talk. Not to him, just to each other. Idle chatter would have been perfect. All he needed was the edge taken off of the silence. Right now, the unsteady taps of his knife on the cutting board and the crackling fire were the only two true sounds in the nearby area. Ignis was just glad he was a few feet away from the fire and facing the other direction. Although… facing away from the fire did not help dismiss the feeling he had that the others were watching him. Biggs specifically, he suspected.

 

He wasn’t ready to talk about himself. He really, really wasn’t. But some things needed to be discussed, and they couldn’t wait.

 

“Aranea.” His tone came out harsher than he intended, but he didn’t backtrack. “What did your contact say this time?”

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“She gave me two possible leads. If we want to hit both, we’ll have to split up.”

 

Ignis hummed. They’d managed fine with just the two of them before. If Nyx went with Biggs and Wedge, things would likely go smoothly. “And the locations of those leads?”

 

He could hear her shifting behind him. “Well, there’s a lot of army movement at the Vesperpool. And then there’s a lot of army activity just south of here. Another base.”

 

Ignis nodded. The Vesperpool. Lovely. There was sure not to be any rain there _at all_. Still, that was the better choice for them. “Then you and I should get an early start in the morning.”

 

“…What?” Biggs said blankly.

 

“Scientia, are you trying to torture yourself?” Nyx demanded.

 

Ignis refused to turn around. His back was the only thing blocking their view of his shaking hands. “Aranea and I can cover more ground faster than you, Nyx. You may be healed enough for a mission, but the longer you spend traveling, the worse off you’ll be. Chocobo riding is the exact kind of jostling your ribs don’t need.”

 

Aranea sighed. “Trust you to find a reason to do what’s worse for _you_ and better for someone else. Is that your life motto or something?”

 

“Yeah!” Biggs protested softly, yet forcefully. “What ’bout you? What ’bout your, like, mental jostling?”

 

Ignis’ hands stilled.

 

Silence.

 

“Biggs… seriously?” Aranea deadpanned.

 

“…Okay, that was the worst choice of words to ever come out of my mouth. I–”

 

Ignis set the knife down suddenly, propping his hands on the small table in front of him as his shoulders began to shake with soft laughter. Biggs was just… so untactful despite his heart of gold.

 

“…Bloody ’ell, I’ve made him lose ’is mind…”

 

Ignis laughed harder. Maybe Biggs _had_. After all, Ignis wasn’t one for unrestrained laugher. He _chuckled_ while Noct and Prompto rolled around on the floor with tears in their eyes, but for some reason he was finding what Biggs had said to be the funniest damn thing he’d ever heard.

 

…Six, he needed sleep. And probably therapy. And instead he was about to go on an assassination mission.  

 

“…Okay.” Nyx’s chair gave a squeak, and suddenly there was a pair of gentle hands leading Ignis towards the nearest chair as he continued to laugh. “Sit. _Breathe._ ” Ignis complied, his giggling unrelenting while Nyx took his hands and started pushing into the skin and down on the pressure points there.

 

Ignis’ laughter became more difficult as his throat throbbed, not pulling in enough air to satisfy his lungs.

 

“…Dammit. Scientia? _Ignis._ Look at me.”

 

Ignis blinked a few times, his chest growing tight as his laughter finally died out and was replaced by an uneven, wheezing rhythm.

 

“Hey, hey… Come on.”

 

Come on. _Come on. Keep up. Don’t hold them back. Don’t be a liability._

 

A jolt passed through Ignis from his palms as Nyx squeezed hard.

 

There was something else in front of his face now. Not Nyx. Not human.

 

_You are a liability. You’re holding them back just like you’ve done with Noct these last few years. They don’t need a broken soldier._

 

White. With letters. Paper.

 

_Noct doesn’t need a broken Advisor._

 

It was a book. Yes, that was it…

 

“Come on, Specs. Start anywhere you like, just read something to me.”

 

Don’t be broken. Do as they say…

_Noct doesn’t need you. None of them do._

 

Do as they say…

 

“‘M-Mr. and Mrs. D-Dursley, of number four… Privet Drive, were p-proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you… thank you very much.’”

 

He’d… he’d heard these words before somewhere…

 

“That’s it. That’s it, Specs. Keep going. Breathe and keep reading.”

 

He did take a breath. He could now. Yes. That was how breathing worked. His body seemed to be remembering how now.

 

He mumbled out the next few sentences. Lowly, but steady all the same.

 

Oh. Right. Yes, he _did_ know this book. Prompto had gotten Noct to read that series several years ago, and they’d been obsessive about it for months.

 

He trailed off after a couple more sentences, counting his own thudding heartbeats off to himself inwardly.

 

“…You back with us, Specs?”

 

Ignis managed a weak nod. “Yes…”

 

Ulric released his hands. “Good. ’Cause we’re getting hungry.”

 

Ignis couldn’t summon up the strength to even chuckle at that, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.

 

And it was then he noticed the look on Biggs’ face as he hovered on the edge of the scene, pale as his usual coat. Ignis almost expected him to start vomiting that moment. Though his expression wasn’t the sympathetic one Ignis was growing used to. There was no other way to describe it than guilt.

 

For goodness’ sake… guilt was the last thing he wanted to cause.

 

“We still need to leave in the morning,” Ignis said weakly, knowing none of them were going to accept that. _He_ certainly wouldn’t have from someone else.

 

Ulric and Aranea shared a look.

 

“How about we worry about dinner first?” Ulric asked, his tone very calculated sounding. “Anything we can do to help you with that?”

 

Ignis sighed, shaking his head wearily. “No… best if I finish it. It will help. And Biggs? Wipe that bloody look off your face. This isn’t your fault.”

 

The stress lines on Biggs’ forehead grew deeper. “…It kind of is.”

 

Ignis pushed out of his chair, shaking his head at Ulric’s offered hand of help. “I could have warned you of my issues, but I didn’t. Do not blame yourself.” He moved back over to his cutting board, gingerly picking up the knife before he returned to cutting up the vegetables.

They would be going in the morning. No matter what it took. He’d see to it somehow.

 

He was not letting Loqi escape again if these reports were accurate.

 

 

 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUUYYYYS. Kupocon was AWESOME! All the voice actors are super nice. If you ever get the chance to meet them, do it! (Also, got to meet one of my best friends in real life finally! That was amaaaaazing!) Annnd I got to meet the author of the Nibelheim Incident, who I might get to talk to more in the future! And last but certainly not least, I met someone there who’s reading Hours! Shoutout to you, girl!


	29. The Relapse (2)

It was surprisingly easy to get Specs to sleep that night. Aranea thought it was going to be like herding a cat, but it hadn’t been. Actually, they didn’t have to do anything at all. He must have been completely mentally exhausted, because he just… left the fire and went to bed without a word, and Biggs and Wedge had turned in not long after.

 

Aranea had spent the least time with Ulric out of anyone in their group, but she had a feeling she was about to get to know him better now. She could tell by the set of his shoulders and the line of his jaw that he was going to strike up a conversation. Probably one concerning Ignis’ condition. She would have suspected that anyway, but how long he was taking to get it out definitely confirmed things. He must have trying to find the right words to start off with.

 

So, she waited. She already knew where she stood on what they were going to talk about, and she probably wasn’t getting much sleep herself tonight. She could wait.

 

“He isn’t mission ready,” Ulric said finally.

 

_No shit,_ Aranea thought. “No. But I think he and I should take the Vesperpool, and that will give us a few days of travel time. He’ll get there.”

 

Ulric snorted, but he also tipped his head slightly in what looked like agreement. “Sure, but how many pieces is he going to make of himself in the process?”

 

Aranea crossed her arms, leaning back further in her chair. “I’ll be keeping a close eye on him, and I’ve got Pretty Boy on speed dial if I need him.”

 

“I don’t doubt you’ll do everything possible to make things easier for him. It’s just…” He grimaced, reaching up to touch one of his braids before blinking and dropping his hand back into his lap. “It’s unpredictable, y’know?”

 

She gave him a single nod. “Oh, yeah. I know. He’s told me about some of the various triggers he has. Even he admits some of them don’t make any damn sense. But leaving him here? Or us not going after Loqi?” She sighed. “Every second we’re here, Loqi could be tracking us down. A dropship could be here any minute. Hell, even if Loqi never comes after us, just the knowledge that he _might_ – that he’s _out there_ – is slowing down Specs’ progress.”

 

“You can’t–” He cut himself off, clearly rethinking whatever instinctive reply he had. “So. I’m going to sound like a hypocrite, considering I took up arms against the Empire, but murdering one’s problems isn’t _technically_ a good or healthy solution.”

 

Well, he’d already admitted to the hypocrisy, so there was no need to bring that up. “Good or healthy? No. Only one we got? Yes. Look, if this was just about revenge, I’d have tried to talk Specs out of all this in the first place, but we all know there’s more at stake here.”

 

“Yeah.” He exhaled a sharp breath and leaned back in his seat a bit more. "I get that. He needs to be stopped. So does that whole damn Empire, and he’s a part of it, one that needs to die."

 

Well, no argument there. “Damn straight.”

 

He took his time thinking about what to say next, gaze flickering in the firelight. “I guess I’m just not convinced Scientia is… that he should be doing this. But I genuinely can't think of anything else he should be doing instead either.”

 

Aranea grunted. She was starting to like Ulric. They thought along fairly similar lines. “Yeah…”

 

And that seemed like a stopping point for that conversation, so she was going to take the chance to bring up the next thing they needed to discuss. “How are you and Biggs and Wedge getting along, by the way? You good with teaming up with them?”

 

Maybe it was just the erratic firelight playing tricks, but she was relatively certain he grinned for just a moment. “Seems so, yeah. They’re good men – or should I say blokes?”

 

Aranea tipped her head back and let out a full laugh. “That’s good to hear. I learned a long time ago never to split them up for a mission if possible. They move like a hydra when it comes to tactical executions.”

 

“They saved my skin, and that’s good enough for me. More time to practice would’ve been nice, but…”

 

Aranea hummed. “You’ll do fine with them. They’re pretty adaptable. Give them a task, and they’ll find a way to get it done. As long as it doesn’t involve kidnapping, that is.”

 

Ulric made a noise she interpreted as a laugh, mangled though it was. “Noted. Although I think they could kidnap Loqi if they really had to.”

 

Aranea smirked. “All right, I’ll give you that one.”

 

“Not sure that’s going to be likely, though.”

 

“Yeah, personally I think all of us would be more likely to want to stab him in the face than take him hostage, even if it would be a sweet dose of karma.” She glanced at her phone, lighting up the screen. “We should probably turn in.”

 

“Probably.” He pushed himself to his feet in a movement that had gotten progressively smoother as the days had passed. Instead of turning for the shop, though, he looked at her, eyes glinting in the fading firelight. “Whatever happens, I’ll stand with them.”

 

“I believe you.” She really did. The three of them _would_ be a good match.

 

* * *

 

 

To say Ignis was surprised at what he found in the morning was more than an understatement. He’d expected another debate. Expected more pitying looks. Expected to have to use the limited scraps of logic he had in his favor in an attempt to sway them towards his goals.

 

He was not expecting Aranea to already have all his things packed and ready for the Vesperpool while Nyx, Biggs, and Wedge chatted around the fire about their approach to _their_ mission.

 

Ignis blinked a few times, hovering in the caravan door. He’d woken up feeling much better than he did the day before, but now he was beginning to wonder if he was hallucinating.

 

Perhaps he’d finally and officially gone delusional.

 

Nyx saw him first, greeting him with a nod. “Morning, Ignis. We’re heading out in about forty minutes. Think Aranea was looking at the same time for you two. Let us know if you need any help with breakfast.”

 

Well. All right, then. They weren’t going to try and leave him behind.

 

And so he set to work on breakfast, preparing a quick and simple meal that would hopefully keep them all energized for their day of traveling. The breakfast itself wasn’t silent, as the others kept discussing their plans, but Ignis stayed quiet and only made a few comments here and there.

 

It was only after breakfast was cleaned up, Wiz was informed of their departure, and all of them were about to head out that they stopped to truly speak to each other.

 

The five of them formed a circle around the remnants of their campfire.

 

“Well, boys, I guess we’ll see you in a few weeks or so.” Aranea stamped out a lingering coal.

 

“’Opefully less,” Wedge said.

 

“Yeah, I’d be pretty glad if we found ’im and we wrapped this all up quick,” Biggs added.

 

“Think we’re all hoping for that.” Aranea looked at both of them specifically. “Just don’t get in too much of a rush. Call us if you find him, and we’ll do the same. Only engage if you really have almost a certain chance of succeeding. If he gets away and knows what we’re up to, it could screw everything up. I don’t know how the hell he’s made himself so important, but he has. If he thinks we’re after him, we’ll probably have to face an army to get to him.”

 

“Got it, Lady A.” Wedge nodded.

 

“Don’t worry about us,” Nyx said. “You two take care.”

 

Ignis could have been wrong, but he suspected that might have been a hint to Aranea to worry about him instead. Ignis wished he could have been offended, but that was just unreasonable. Nyx was _right_.

 

“We will. And same to you,” Ignis said levelly, making sure his tone was smooth and collected.

 

Funny, to think how water was more of a worry for him than Loqi himself. Ignis was leagues beyond where he’d been a few years ago. In an actual fight between the two of them, Ignis knew he’d be able to slaughter Loqi on a one-on-one close combat fight. Loqi hadn’t been close to defeating their group a few weeks ago, and that was with his Magitek help. If only Ignis could _find him_.

 

Or Nyx… No, Ignis wouldn’t mind at all if the former Captain did the deed. Or Aranea. Or Biggs or Wedge. It made no difference so long as it was done. So long as _Loqi_ was done.

 

“Good luck,” Nyx said, turning away to leave.

 

“Back at you,” Aranea returned.

 

Biggs and Wedge hovered a moment longer before Biggs offered Aranea a grin and Ignis a somewhat more strained smile.

 

Oh, bloody hell… He was not going to let Biggs stew on that and feel guilty until they met again.

 

“Biggs,” Ignis said sternly. “Enough with the guilt. If I’m not holding it against you, you certainly shouldn’t be holding it against yourself. Even Noct has accidentally triggered certain things with me. It’s merely the way things are.”

 

Biggs looked like he wanted to argue, but Wedge thwacked him on the back of the head. “You ’eard ’im. Let it go, you lout.”

 

Biggs sighed softly. “Right. I’ll try to stop lettin’ it eat me.”

 

“Good,” Ignis said neutrally. It _was_ a big deal, but he could _try_ to not make it so much of one.

 

Aranea smirked at the exchange before stepping back in the direction of their chocobos. “See you, boys.”

 

Biggs gave her a two-fingered salute and Wedge nodded.

 

Onwards they all went.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you certain about this?” Ignis asked once they settled their chocobos into a steady jogging rhythm. “Are you certain about executing this mission with… me?”

 

Aranea looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Aware of issues that might arise? Yes. Worried? No. Worrying won’t help anything. I’m not gonna let you get me killed. Or yourself, for that matter. So, take your own advice to Biggs and stop feeling guilty, okay? You worrying is half your stress, and that can’t be improving things for you.”

 

Ignis snorted inwardly. Ever direct, she was. “I can’t deny that…”

 

“You do and I’ll hit you for lying to me.”

 

Astrals, how did she do it? She was so supportive of his issues, yet she didn’t hesitate to call him out when she thought he was being stupid. Everyone else but Noct acted as though they were about to trip over a landmine around him, but Aranea… Somehow she knew what she could and couldn’t say about certain things. Perhaps it came with time and that was why it was only her and Noct that could do it. Whatever the case, he was grateful for them.

 

“I suppose I can live with that arrangement,” he answered, realizing that the time he was spending quiet was beginning to make the air awkward.

 

“Good, because I’m not giving you a choice.”

 

Ignis chuckled.

 

Aranea glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “So, I take it you’re feeling better than last night?”

 

Well, he’d known it was going to come up eventually. “Ah, yes. Bit hard not to be.”

 

She hummed. “Good. Brought plenty of chargers for my phone, so I’ll keep playing music at night even if we aren’t expecting rain.”

 

They _would_ be expecting it. It was the _Vesperpool_. But… he’d handled it all right before. Hopefully the lake incident wouldn’t change that.

 

“My thanks.” Such a simple thing helped so much.

 

“Don’t mention it. It’s my payment for dinner every night.” She winked at him.

 

And with that, they rode on in silence.

 


	30. The Waterfall

Ignis was certain of two things at the moment. One: he absolutely hated the Vesperpool. Two: this was another bloody waste of time and Loqi wasn’t here again. Oh, but Noct was. He supposed that was three things. Whatever the case, this mission was even less useful than the first they’d gone on.

 

Ignis shoved off of his stomach, leaving the binoculars on the ground beside Aranea. The army wasn’t going to see them given how far away the ridge was that they were on. Besides, they weren’t even being hostile. For some reason, the army was assisting Noct and Prompto and Monica on their mission to obtain some mythril. That was what the Imperial activity in the area was. Ignis was extremely wary of the whole situation, but he’d talked to Noct, and he was just as suspicious as Ignis and was keeping his guard up, so at least there was that. Still. Ignis wished he could tell Noct that he and Aranea were nearby, but he would have to settle for watching his back from the distance that currently lay between them.

 

Irritated, Ignis dragged a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “Are you certain your contact is on our side and not purposefully wasting our time?”

 

“…Yes, Captain Grumpy, I am. We have a long history.”

 

“Then perhaps she’s just incompetent,” Ignis growled.

 

“…Specs. You need to calm down.”

 

“I am calm, I’m merely frustrated.”

 

“Obviously.” She pushed off the ground as well, brushing the grass from her clothes. “We don’t know how the others are doing, though. It’s getting close to dark. We should find a place to camp and then give them a call.”

 

Ignis nodded. “We’ll need somewhere Noct and the others won’t pick once they’ve exited those ruins.”

 

“Yeah, hold on.” Aranea pulled out her phone. “Biggs and Wedge have spent plenty of time here – they gave me details about the havens.”

 

Ignis waited, noting that the sky was growing particularly grey. Wonderful.

 

“Got it. This way.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx slipped his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. Aranea had taken the news as well as to be expected, but it was easy to tell she was frustrated, and he seriously doubted Ignis would take it better than her.

 

Still. Nothing they could do about it.

 

The jingling harnesses weren’t loud enough to drown out the occasional sigh as their chocobos plodded down the trail. They’d known there wasn't a great chance of their mission being successful, but it was still disappointing.

 

Hence they were riding single file, undoubtedly each processing what they could have done better. If nothing else, it was great to be actually doing things again, to be on the move and in new places, and Nyx found himself taking yet another deep breath, just because he could.

 

Life was so much better without broken ribs.

 

“Oi, wait!”

 

At Wedge’s call, Nyx reined in his chocobo and guided it around so he could see what the problem was, already bristling for a fight. Instead, Wedge was pointing into a nearby cluster of trees, barely visible in the dusky light, and he looked… excited?

 

"Unless we’ve stopped for food or beds, I ain’t gonna enjoy this,” Biggs grumbled as his chocobo trotted up alongside Nyx’s. Within moments the two birds were nuzzling each other’s beaks, bonding again after a few hours apart.

 

Though Nyx wasn’t going to say it, he was inclined towards agreeing with Biggs – it had been a long, frustrating day, and hurrying home was the sanest decision. Instead, he had to ask. “Did you spot trouble or something?”

 

Wedge shook his head, already swinging off his chocobo and handing its reins to Biggs. “Tree.”

 

Groaning, Biggs slumped forwards in his saddle. “Now? Really? Must we?”

 

“Five minutes, tops,” Wedge promised, beckoning Nyx to follow him as he turned off the trail.

 

With an apologetic shrug aimed Biggs’ way, Nyx gave him control of his chocobo as well and dismounted, groaning at how stiff he was, then limp-jogged after Wedge, who was already weaving his way between the trees. Trying to follow him and his dark coat was like trying to follow a shadow, and Nyx was grateful it wasn’t any darker out as he picked his way over the uneven footing.

 

“Which tree are we looking for?” he asked, bracing a hand on one broad trunk as he passed it to prevent himself from slipping on the thick carpet of leaves. “Better yet, why are we looking for it?”

 

“’S what I wanna know!” Biggs called from behind them.

 

Wedge snorted and paused for a few moments to peer around before motioning southwest. “There.”

 

Despite the amount of time Nyx had devoted recently to learning more about the subject, there was no way he’d be able to identify more than a couple of these trees in the dark, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to do it from the back of a chocobo that happened to be passing by at a distance. “I don’t know how you do it, Wedge, but you’re something else.”

 

Wedge waved him off, but Nyx caught a quick smile before he vanished around the next tree. Shaking his head, he followed, resigned to his fate of finding neither food nor bed here by this point. Just a cool evening breeze; the heady, thick scent of tree decay; and more leaves and branches than he truly knew what to do with.

 

Wedge stopped so suddenly that Nyx almost walked into him; only trained reflexes prevented them from colliding. “’Ere.”

 

Balance recovered, Nyx looked around to find… yup, it was a tree. A big one, though, with a broad canopy and many boughs, from what he could see of it in the dark. Old, then. But he still didn’t see why it was significant.

 

The look Wedge was giving him definitely teetered over into excitement, and Nyx found he felt bad when he had to shrug and say, “I have no idea why we're here.”

 

“Bloodwood, mate.”

 

Nyx blinked up at the tree again. Bloodwood? “You mean…”

 

“Finally found ya some for those beads of yours. Been lookin’ for one of these for weeks.” Wedge gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder before stepping around the tree, leaving Nyx to blink at the empty spot. He had no idea Wedge had been looking so hard for something he’d only mentioned in passing, and the revelation of such a thoughtful gesture was enough to make a warm glow rise through his chest.

 

Wedge and Biggs weren’t a replacement for Libertus and Crowe, but Nyx was starting to learn that was okay. They didn’t need replacing – he just needed to be open to accepting new people into his life again, and he felt like he was finally getting there.

 

“Two minutes!” Biggs hollered; at the same time Wedge poked his head around the trunk and said, “It’s split, ’elp me get some of it.”

 

Grinning, Nyx shook his head and followed, already trying to mentally repack their chocobos so they could haul back however much Wedge decided he wanted. Wacky friends, maybe, but good friends nonetheless, and right now he could ask for nothing more.

 

* * *

 

 

Nothing. Again.

 

Ignis balled his hands into fists, staring past the fire at the area just outside the haven, which was entirely too beautiful to suit his mood. Aranea had suggested that they double back and find another haven when they realized this one had a pond and a waterfall right beside it, but Ignis had refused. He’d manage, and he refused to waste any more time. They needed to sleep and then head back to the chocobo post as soon as possible. Either that or go track down Aranea’s contact and demand why she was so bad at her job. Three dead ends. It was bloody ridiculous. They might be better off just walking from Imperial base to Imperial base and checking all of them.

 

Where the hell was he? What was he doing all this time? Why was the Empire celebrating him so much? _What had he done?_ Or rather… who had he killed? Ignis was almost positive that was the truth of the matter at this point.

 

“You planning on turning in soon?” Aranea asked softly, her phone in hand, probably ready to start up the music playlist she’d been using for him.

 

“Soon enough.” He rubbed his hands together by the fire, trying to warm the damp tips of his fingers. The waterfall wasn’t bothering him, per se, but the area was unpleasantly moist with how chilly it was tonight. “Why don’t you go ahead?”

 

“Why, so you can wallow out here alone?” She arched an eyebrow.

 

Ignis sighed. “I merely need some time to think.”

 

“Specs, we’ll get him. There’s only so long he can hide–”

 

“That doesn’t help us now!” Ignis snapped, but instantly regretted it. He lowered his head. “Apologies…” She’d been nothing but helpful and supportive this whole time.

 

“Don’t mention it,” she dismissed. “Music will be playing, whenever you decide you’re ready for bed.”

 

Ignis sighed again. “My thanks.”

 

He was not going to be ready to sleep for some while, that much he knew. What else was new?

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea kept herself awake for a while, but eventually, she decided to just go to sleep and let him join her in the tent on his own time. He might have come inside at one point during the night, but when she awoke, she was still alone. She scowled, reaching over to her phone and jabbing at it until the classical music pouring out of it silenced.

 

…Oh boy. Six, it almost seemed as though the universe really was set against Specs. She hoped he was all right and not having another attack…

 

She shoved herself to her feet, unzipping the tent and squinting as rain began pelting her face.

 

Ignis wasn’t at the remains of the fire, or fixing any kind of food off to the side.

 

She exited the tent fully, leaving it open behind her in her haste. “Specs?”

 

He wouldn’t have run off, would he? He might have done that to Pretty Boy and the others, but he had no reason to do it to her–

 

Oh.

 

She let out a sigh of relief, spotting him over on the dock that was in the pond.

 

It really was a beautiful place. This whole area was off the regular path, and she hadn’t seen any daemons since they’d entered it. The sun was just coming up behind the rainclouds, leaving Ignis as a darkened silhouette in front of the waterfall as the rain and wind billowed the bottom of his coat to one side.

 

If only Shortcake had been there with his camera. Specs looked perfect for some type of eerie movie poster. Except he wasn’t posing for one. So why was he standing out in the rain – something he hated for obvious reasons – before it was even breakfast time?

 

His fists were clinched. That was never a good sign. But he wasn’t completely freaking out, at least. “Specs?” She approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him into falling into the water. “You all right?”

 

“Fine,” he answered tightly. His head was tilted back, and he would have been looking directly into the rain, but she could now see he had his eyes closed. That was risky. He’d told her that not being able to see increased his chances of having an attack. It was like he was _trying_ to set himself off at the moment.

 

She kept her slow pace as she reached him. “Is this really a good idea?”

 

He let out a shaky breath. “Small doses. Avoiding this all has done me no good. I have to face it.”

 

“…I don’t think that’s how PTSD works, Specs.” She realized as the nickname rolled off her tongue that he wasn’t actually wearing his glasses at the moment. Had she not known what was going on in that head of his, she would have been more focused on how stupidly attractive he looked without them _and_ drenched with his hair somewhat windswept.

 

She laid a gentle hand on his back, just below his neck, and rubbed there soothingly. “Geez, Specs, your heart rate is spiked…”

 

She could feel his muscles tense under her hand. He finally opened his eyes, looking at her. “What are you doing?”

 

“Trying to get you to relax. I’m no expert, but if you’re constantly thinking about your problem when the weather’s like this, I doubt the issues are ever going to go away.” She shifted herself and him around so they were facing each other instead of him facing the waterfall. She pressed her hand over his heart. “Focus on me, hm? Relax.” She sucked in a deep breath, releasing it and trying to get him to follow her lead.

 

Specs was very obviously not growing more relaxed. Instead, his cheeks were now refilling with more color than the chilled rain had originally even leeched out of them, and he was staring down at her unblinkingly.  

She glanced at her hand on his chest. “…This isn’t helping your heart rate, is it?”

 

“Not particularly,” was his strained reply.

 

They fell silent for a moment, Aranea stuck unsure whether to move her hand or not for fear of making things more awkward as Specs continued to stare at her.

 

Well. He wasn’t thinking about the rain, she was pretty sure of that.

 

“Aranea…” he said thickly. “I apologize…”

 

She shoved him back slightly at that, breaking their connection only by a couple of inches. “No. Knock it off. You will never need to apologize for this crap.”

 

Specs made a choked noise that could have been a laugh, but she wasn’t sure. “I actually didn’t mean… I was referring to my rather unprofessional behavior when it came to you and I. I appear to have the unfortunate habit of becoming a blithering idiot whenever you are trying to help, or even when you’re merely trying to lighten the mood. I shall elect to–”

 

“Your hand is shaking,” she pointed out, cutting off his awkward word vomit.

 

Something cracked behind his eyes as he grabbed his shaking hand with the other. “Damn it all…”

 

Six, he looked so broken. He didn’t deserve this pain. Her insides twisted at the thought of all the suffering he must have been covering up if this was what he was showing.

 

“Hey.” She reached out again, this time taking his shaking hand in hers. “What did I just say? Eyes on me, remember? Besides, I kind of like how flustered you get around me.” She grinned. “Makes a girl feel special, you know?”

 

Ignis snorted softly. “You most certainly are special.”

 

“Aw, thanks. You’re not so average yourself,” she teased, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.  

 

“If only,” he muttered. “Were I average, I could speak normally with you in the rain.”

 

“You can use whatever adjectives you want for yourself, Specs. Even if the circumstances suck, I wouldn’t trade you out for anyone else.” She winked at him.

 

There was something within his eyes that she was trying to place. Something behind the deep green was burning, shimmering like it was only just there. A coal of… hope? Why hope? Hope for what–

 

“…You have got to be kidding me.”

 

He blinked. “What?”

 

“You idiot,” she deadpanned, releasing his hand. “I thought you were just keeping your distance because of the circumstances, but you actually haven’t been sure that I’m interested, have you?”

 

Annnnd the blood was gone from his face again. “You… _interested?_ ”

 

“My word, you moron.” She shook her head. “For someone as observant as you are, it took us way too damn long to get to this conversation.”

 

“I… I’d thought I was only seeing what I hoped to see,” he said softly, just audible above the rain. “I didn’t think you would actually feel for me given…”

 

_Given all his issues,_ she bet was how that sentence was supposed to end. Given that he was _broken._

 

“Well, you thought wrong,” she said simply.

 

He didn’t look like he knew what to do with that at all.

 

She stepped even closer to him, reaching up to trail her knuckles across his cheek. “You know… I’d say it’s about time you had some pleasant memories in the rain…”

 

With that, she twisted her fingers into the soaked strands of his hair and pulled his mouth to meet her own.

 

Given the short distance, it was difficult to tell, but she was pretty sure he met her halfway before his hand came to rest on her waist. It was easy to tell he wasn’t terribly experienced, but the kiss was a slow, gentle one, and, like with everything else, he was a quick learner.

 

And she sure as hell wouldn’t want to have him any other way. She’d never made a conscious decision to wait for him or even pursue anything more than friendship with him, but she hadn’t been in denial either.

 

She didn’t know when it had started, but she knew – she _did_ love him, no matter how broken he thought he was.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.


	31. The Farewell

 

Romance was no cure for PTSD or anything, but Ignis’ nerves felt entirely more at ease as he and Aranea left their camp, heading back out to a more open area where they could call the birds. No, romance wouldn’t help a great many of his issues, but the fact that he now knew his feelings weren’t unrequited vanquished a pain within him that he’d grown used to carrying. He wasn’t naive enough to think that this meant things were bound to work out between them and that they’d become the perfect couple, but this moment… This moment he could cherish, even if they went their separate ways later.

 

Unless they didn’t _have_ to go their separate ways later. Of course, the chances, as he’d told Noct, were next to nonexistent, but Noct had told him to throw the offer out all the same.

 

“Aranea,” he said softly, breaking their comfortable silence for the first time as they ducked under a fallen, propped-up branch that was in the way. “Just so you know, Noct has officially extended to you an offer of employment in the Glaive, should he regain power.”

 

Aranea’s eyebrows shot up, leaving her looking a degree of surprised that he wasn’t sure he’d seen before.

 

He held up his hand before she could reply. “I know it isn’t your style of life, and I have no expectations of you agreeing to such an offer. He – _I_ – merely wished for you to know that it is an option that stands should you… grow tired of a life on the road. Presuming we’re successful in retaking the throne. Though I do suppose the offer is also valid prior to that. The Glaive will be needed for many things–”

 

“Specs.” She looked as though she were trying not to laugh as she pulled her chocobo whistle out of her pocket and used it. “You’re rambling.” She tossed a wink at him as she turned away to face her bird. “I’ll think about it. Now, let’s get going. We have a long way to the chocobo post.”

 

Well… He could accept that for now.

 

He checked his messages from Noct one more time, making certain he was all right.

 

They _did_ have a long ride ahead. If they were lucky, though, they might make it back before the other three men died of malnutrition.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx might have felt worse about coming back to bother Wiz if the man hadn’t greeted them with the largest smile in history when he spotted them riding in. Maybe it was because of all the monsters in the area that they’d been taking care of. Maybe it was the extra help they’d given him with the chocobos. Hell, maybe he just wanted some company that he knew better than the occasional traveler and the hunters that periodically stopped by. Whatever the old man’s reasons for being happy they were back, Nyx was glad. If they’d had to book a hotel somewhere or switch over to full camping, keeping up fund wise would not have been easy.

 

“You boys back again?” Wiz asked as he wiped off his hands with some kind of damp cloth. Probably getting rid of the chocobo feed remnants.

 

“Didn’t find what we were looking for,” was the simplified version Nyx went for as he slid off his chocobo. Not like he was going to tell him what they were up to. The old man might not be as friendly and welcoming if he knew they were trying to plan an assassination under his roof.

 

“That’s too bad.” He finished wiping his hands and slung the cloth over his shoulder. “Well, I haven’t done anything with that back room since you left. It’s open to you.”

 

“You’re a saint, mate!” Biggs grinned.

 

“Got our thanks,” Wedge added.  

 

Wiz waved them off and went back to working a couple of minutes later, leaving them to drag their supplies in and put up what they could. The three of them ended up in the back room, sure enough. A fire would have been nice, but Nyx didn’t think any of them were up for going to the trouble of making one outside, so they pulled out a couple chairs and suck them around a table instead.

 

“So…” Biggs said once they’d settled in. He laid a deck of cards on the table.

 

“What now?” Wedge finished.

 

Nyx sighed. “Now we wait. Ignis and Aranea shouldn’t be too long. If I know anything about the two of them, they would have started back first thing this morning. Until then…”

 

“Cards?” Biggs offered.

 

Nyx took a moment to study the tops of the few cards that were visible. They weren’t the same generic cards they’d played with before as a group. “Where’d you get those? They new?”

 

“Nah.” Biggs started dealing them out.

 

“They’re his favorites. Doesn’t use them outdoors,” Wedge said, relaxing back into his chair.

 

“They get all dirty!” Biggs sounded defensive, and Nyx wagered a guess that he’d been teased about this before. “Me mum gave me these years back…”

 

Nyx didn’t tend to keep up with decks of cards, but he could tell these were in extremely good condition to be years old.

 

Go Fish wasn’t a particularly exciting game, but it was good to relax after the long ride back. And it was about a dozen times more amusing after Biggs and Wedge started bickering.

 

“Go Fish.”

 

“Oh, like ’ell,” Biggs said, clearly miffed.

 

“It’s not ’ere.”

 

“Cheater.”

 

“I don’t have it.”

 

“Right. And you apparently don’t ’ave any other cards in the entire bloody deck either. You’ll ’ave to hand them over eventually. I’ll get ’em, I tell you!”

 

“Can’t get what I don’t ’ave.”

 

“You _do_ ’ave! You ’ave to ’ave something, and I’ll get it!”

 

Wedge looked up from his cards, staring at Biggs for a moment before he threw his entire hand of cards at Biggs, his face blank the whole time. “There. You got it.”

 

Nyx chortled.

 

“Oi!” Biggs wailed, scrambling to catch and pick up the cards that fell all around him. “Don’t get ’em dirty–”

 

A jolt shot through Nyx as the door behind him was thrown open, and he instinctively yanked his dagger from its sheath, dropping his cards as he twisted and kicked his chair back at the same time.

 

Despite his haste – despite the perfectly executed move – Nyx wasn’t fast enough.

 

Too slow.

 

The soldiers had just been too close for him to react in time. He was swarmed.

 

A sharp punch to his jaw knocked him back into the table, and two Imperials were on him, pinning him to the surface as Biggs and Wedge scrambled for their own weapons.

 

Nyx kneed one of the men holding him – these were real men? Why? – managing to whip his dagger around to slice into the other man’s leg before a fresh solider replaced the injured one. Nyx’s dagger was forced from his hand as ties were looped around his wrists. He couldn’t see past the soldiers tying him up, the scuffling sounds around him suggesting that something similar was happening to Biggs and Wedge.

 

Nyx was yanked from the table by the collar of his shirt. His knees hit the ground hard as he was forced to sit down with his hands tied in front of him.

  

Biggs was shoved next to him in the same position while Wedge was forced down against the back wall.

 

Their struggle was futile.

 

And then the cold draft pouring through the door was broken by an imposing figure.

 

Loqi oozed smug confidence as he stepped into the room, his armor pristine and shining. “Well, well, well… When I had my false location leaked to that spy that was poking around, I’d assumed I’d find Scientia, but this works just as well. All I need to do is find him and Highwind and the Prince and we can have a full reunion.”

 

“Bastard,” Biggs spat, still struggling against the men holding him. “What’d you ’ave to do to get back in command after the last screwup? ’Ow many boots you ’ave to lick every day?”

 

Loqi’s laugh was haughty and cold. “Oh, there was no need for that, Mr. Callux. I was welcomed back with open arms.”

 

“The ’ell you were,” Wedge growled.

 

Loqi smirked. “Mistakes can be rectified will enough positive influence, Mr. Kincaid, and I’ve been able to provide quite a bit of that. Of course, after I deliver Scientia, Highwind, and the Prince himself, no one will ever doubt me again.”

 

A short, barked-out laugh escaped Biggs’ mouth. “You think they’ll be stupid enough to fall into your traps after they find out you’ve got us?”

 

Loqi’s smirk became even larger. “Oh, I don’t need traps. Just you.”

 

“Another hostage situation?” Nyx laughed humorlessly. “Really not one for originality, are you?” Only this time things were reversed. This time, Ignis would be the one after _them._ Trying to save _them._ As if he didn’t have enough trauma to deal with.

 

Loqi chuckled. “Strange how we all fall into the same old situations, is it not? But no…” He drew a knife from his belt, pointing it in Nyx’s face. “I’m afraid things will be different this time, Captain. This time I won’t be the one being chased around while trying to escape.” He looked to Biggs and then Wedge. “This time I have men I can count on. And this time…” He paused for a moment to grin again, larger than ever before. “I don’t _need_ you lot.” He flipped the knife around a few times in his hand. “Still… I might have some use for _one_ of you spares. The other should leave a rather potent message for Highwind.”

 

Nyx resumed struggling with fervor. No, no, no, he knew where this was going.

 

Loqi aimed the knife from one to the other of them, looking thoughtful. “Now, which one…”

 

Somehow, even with all the jerking around he was doing, Nyx was still able to spot the look on Wedge’s face – resignation. And determination. His gaze flickered over to Biggs for just the briefest of moments.

 

No.

 

Wedge spat at Loqi, hitting his boot.

 

Loqi didn’t appeare bothered. He looked _pleased._ He smiled.

 

And then he stepped forwards and drove the knife into Wedge’s gut.

 

Wedge had always been the most silent of the group, and that stayed true. A strangled-sounding rasp was the only sound he made as he trembled in pain. Loqi kept grinning at him, staring him down, and then he twisted the knife.

 

The Imperial didn’t even flinch as Wedge coughed blood into his face.

 

Distantly, Nyx realized Biggs was screaming and thrashing around, but he couldn’t tell what he was actually saying.

 

Loqi yanked out the knife, signaling for the two men holding Wedge to withdraw. They did so, leaving Wedge to slide down the wall, tied hands feebly attempting to press into his wound.

 

Loqi calmly drew a handkerchief and wiped his face free of the blood droplets. “Bring them.”

 

Wedge’s wet, wheezing breaths followed Nyx, drilling into his ears as he was dragged from the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I feel like offering offering happy new year wishes would proooobably conflict with the tone of this chapter. At least you probably already have alcohol in the house? Eheh...


	32. The Farewell (2)

 

“Does it seem oddly quiet to you?” Aranea asked, breaking the silence of their ride.

 

Ignis had been in deep thought – as he tended to be quite a bit recently – but now that he was listening closer, he agreed. “It does…” Something was missing…

 

The birds. They were close enough to the post that they should have been able to hear the chocobos. The post was just through the trees, after all.

 

Wordlessly, they kicked their chocobos into a faster pace, and the gates of the post were in view only a few moments later.

 

And there were no chocobos. The fences were broken through at one point, and the birds were gone.

 

“…Shit.” Aranea slid off her chocobo without even slowing it, and Ignis followed suit. They split apart, checking opposite sides of the post.

 

“Wiz?” Ignis called, daggers flashing to hand. This could have just been an animal attack, but Ignis had his doubts. They’d cleared out every reported hostile beast of any large size in their time here in the last few weeks.

 

…And there were footprints. Human ones. Combat boots, it looked like.

 

“Son of a bitch,” Aranea hissed from where she was. “Specs, I’ve got a body over here.”

 

Ignis headed for her instantly, swearing under his breath. Another death. Loqi was behind this. He had to be. This was no coincidence. “Who?”

 

“I never caught her name…” Aranea said softly, standing from her crouched position by the bloodied body of the girl who’d generally fed the chocobos and kept up with the inventory for Wiz’s greens.

 

There was a hole in her chest. Gunshot. Point blank, by the look of it.

 

All Ignis could think about was how he’d found her high-pitched and heavily accented voice to be grating before. Guilt turned his insides, pressure building at the base of his throat. “Is she the only one?” He hadn’t seen any bodies on his side. Maybe everyone else had fled.

 

Damned heartless bastards. They had to have known she was a civilian. Then again, civilian status had never seemed to matter much to Loqi. Andres Forte had been proof enough of that. Even this long later, Ignis had never forgotten that kind man’s face. He would have been proud of how well his child was doing in school the last couple of years.

 

And there was another jolt to Ignis’ system. He wondered if the two remaining members of the Forte family had made it out of the city alive or whether they’d perished in the attack as well.

 

“Not sure. We should check the back room and try calling the others.” She pulled out her phone as they headed for the room together.

 

Aranea’s phone began ringing on its end, and… Biggs’ unique laser gun shooting ringtone started playing from the back room. Ignis and Aranea shared another look before she hung up, them both rushing for the room.

 

The door was already open a crack.

 

“Biggs?” Aranea reached the door first, shoving it the rest of the way open.

 

The first thing that registered for Ignis was the thick smell of blood that slammed into him, invading his nostrils and filling his sinuses to the point of making him want to gag. The second thing that registered was its source.

 

“ _Wedge!_ ” Aranea was at his side instantly, ignoring the fact that her knees slid through a pool of blood as she dropped to the floor.

 

For a moment, Ignis thought Wedge was already gone. There was _so much_ blood.

 

But as her fingers sought out a pulse, Wedge stirred weakly, a gurgling sound coming from his throat as he looked to Aranea with pained eyes. “La… A…”

 

“Six, Wedge…” Aranea frantically tugged his coat lapels aside, locating the wound. “What the hell happened?”

 

Ignis dismissed his daggers, pulling out the strongest potion he had access to and holding it at the ready.

 

It would make no difference, he knew. Not now. Wedge had already lost too much blood. …Just like Ignis had hoped would be the case when he’d cut open his own artery those years back. He had failed then. He’d been healed. Wedge would not.

 

How cruel fate was.

 

“Loqi…” Wedge rasped, barely audible. “Nyx and… Biggs. Took ’em…”

 

There was a rage simmering in Aranea’s eyes as she ripped Wedge’s shirt and snapped her fingers at Ignis for the potion. He didn’t have the heart to remind her that it wouldn’t work. She knew. Oh, she knew.

 

“All right, hush, Wedge. Save your energy.” She all but yanked the potion from Ignis.

 

“Don’t,” Wedge forced out, a little stronger.

 

“Wedge…” Aranea’s tone had a desperate edge.

 

A sad smile twisted his lips up a bit. “Save it for the next guy.” Somehow, he managed to raise his hand high enough that Aranea noticed and caught it, squeezing it between her own. “Get ’em back.”

 

“I will,” Aranea promised through her clenched-together teeth. “We will. And that son of a bitch isn’t going to know what hit him.”  

 

Wedge moved his head in what could have been a nod, but it was hard to tell with how weak the motion was. His chest lurched, breath catching for a moment. “Can’t feel much,” he commented. “Kinda cold…”

 

Though he knew it likely wouldn’t make a difference, Ignis moved over to the bed – past the overturned table and Biggs’ phone on the floor – and grabbed the blanket from there, returning with it and offering it to Aranea. She traded him, returning the potion to him and draping the blanket over Wedge’s pale form, covering up to his shoulders.

 

“How’s that, soldier?”

 

A faint nod.

 

Ignis lowered himself at Wedge’s side. Loqi probably would have come after them eventually anyway, but he still felt guilty. He’d gotten them back involved.

 

Wedge dragged his gaze over to Ignis. “Sorry ’bout before…”

 

_He_ was apologizing? Now?

 

“I didn’t blame you. I never did.” Even during the events of the crisis, Ignis had known they didn’t want to be doing what they were. Perhaps he’d been angry at them for not standing up for their morals better at the time, but blaming them was another matter, and he knew now that they’d done the best they could given the situation.

 

A small amount of relief washed over Wedge’s face along with something else: peace.

 

He let his head fall back against the wall, breath still laced with a wet edge.

 

There were unshed tears in Aranea’s eyes as she brushed a bit of his hair away from his forehead.

 

The minutes that passed next seemed entirely too short for them, but entirely too long for Wedge.

 

Despite Wedge’s reserved disposition, Ignis had always known he was a fighter, and that was never more clear than now.

 

He held on, moment after moment, chest barely moving, but his eyes open and brimming with the lingering remnants of life all the same. He was refusing to give in as long as he possibly could.

 

And then a horrible rattling started, lacing his every strained breath. Aranea squeezed his hand harder, bowing her head. Ignis laid a hand on Wedge’s shoulder.

 

He slipped away slowly, his breath just… catching one final time and noting coming back like it had before. The tension around his eyes eased somewhat, leaving the crow’s feet there more shallow and less obvious.

 

Tears slid down Aranea’s cheeks, but her expression wasn’t one of sorrow. It was rage. Pure, unrestrained rage. It was a contrast to how gentle her touch was as she trailed her gloved hand across Wedge’s face, closing his eyes.

 

Ignis slowly withdrew his own hand from Wedge’s shoulder and laid his other one on Aranea’s back.

 

“Wherever that bastard went, it won’t be far enough,” she hissed, voice low but harsh. Almost a hiss of hostility. “He’s going to wish he died in prison.”

 

Ignis agreed full heartedly. He knew the loss and rage he was feeling right now couldn’t possibly compare to how she felt at losing one of her only friends like this, but his was strong enough all the same.

 

They would find him. They would make him pay.

 

But first… there was this moment of grief. There was this moment for the most fierce dragoon in the world to sit on her knees and mourn. And, as she had been for him, Ignis would be here for her.

 

He was silent in his support, knowing she needed her space. He didn’t question her when she finally stood and left the room, heading over to the part of the post where Wiz kept the shovels. He merely took one as well and followed her past the edge of the post to the hill that overlooked the Disk of Cauthess.

 

It was a suiting resting place for Wedge, and for the girl.

 

Logically, they should have gone after Loqi immediately. Should have gone while the trail was as fresh as possible. But it was clear they’d left in a ship, and Ignis didn’t think either he or Aranea had the heart to leave Wedge’s body where it was.

 

No. They would grant Wedge a decent final resting place, even if it was just a modest grave on a grassy hill. He’d never seemed one for grandeur anyway.

 

It wasn’t nearly enough for such a dear friend, but it was all they could give.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx’s head throbbed as he came to. The floor was moving beneath him, and there was a strange sliding feeling on his right leg. He blinked blearily, just once, because then his mind caught up with what was going on.

 

Wedge was dead. Loqi had dragged him and Biggs away from the chocobo post. And.. yes, they’d been knocked out after being thrown into the Magitek ship. Now he was being hauled somewhere.

 

Nyx struggled against the buzzing of his head, trying to lift it enough to see his surroundings. He caught sight of Biggs, who was also being dragged along beside him. The man’s temple was bloody, but other than that he looked to be in one piece.

 

Nyx squinted against the harsh lighting, forcing his gaze around. They weren’t on the ship anymore. The floor his leg was being dragging over was too solid. Concrete, he was pretty sure.

 

Imperial base, he realized. And Loqi wasn’t with them anymore.

 

Nyx nearly lost his last meal as he was hauled up, being forced to walk again as they rounded a corner. He knees didn’t want to support his weight at all, clumsily fumbling along and trying to keep up with the guards’ pace.

 

They were heading for a door that was straight ahead. Nyx willed his limbs to have more strength to fight back, but they were heavy and uncooperative as the guards yanked open the door to reveal a dark room.

 

He was thrown inside harshly, barely catching himself with his hands, which smashed into the floor hard enough to sting. Biggs’ unconscious body was dumped next to him.

 

“Some company for you!” one of the guards said, his grin flashing in Nyx’s peripheral before he waltzed back out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

The sound of the door latching echoed around his dim surroundings.

 

Nyx blinked several times in the yellowed lighting, dragging himself over to Biggs’ side to check on his wound. Head injuries usually looked worse than they really were, and he was direly hoping that was the case here. He’d already lost one friend today. He was damn well going to try not to lose another.

 

“Biggs?” His pulse was there, strong, but the gash on his head appeared to have him out cold.

 

“…Ulric?”

 

Nyx whipped his head around so fast his vision swam. The figure sitting in the shadows of the room was barely more than a blob to his eyes at the moment, but the voice was one he’d come to recognize well over the years.

 

This… this couldn’t be possible.

 

“…Clarus?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One departs. Another reappears. Surprise?


	33. The Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos once more to all the lovely people who have drawn me fan art! There are links at the bottom of the chapter, so check them out! :D Someone drew me a new one since last update.

 

This _shouldn’t_ have been possible. A hallucination seemed more likely, but Clarus’ form was only getting clearer.

 

Nyx wracked his brain, thinking back to the Citadel. By the time he and the Princess had reached the throne room, Clarus had been out of the picture. The King had been fighting alone. Nyx had just assumed that Clarus had fallen defending him. But… if he’d just been injured…

 

“Six, Clarus, I’d thought for sure you’d kicked it back during the attack on the city.” He spared a moment to massage where they’d bashed him on the head. He hoped he didn’t have a concussion. Not being able to think always made things so much worse.

 

Clarus made a tired sound in the back of his throat, leaning his head back against the wall. “Unfortunately not.”

 

Nyx almost protested, but then the trueness of that statement hit him in full force. All the failure he’d been feeling about how things turned out… Clarus had to have it so much worse. Shields weren’t supposed to outlive their Kings. And in addition to that… Nyx didn’t need the lights fully up to see all the bruises that were littering the Shield’s face and arms.

 

He’d been tortured. There was no doubt about that in Nyx’s mind. And with how long he’d been here…

 

Nyx wasn’t sure whether it was that thought or the pounding of his head, but he wanted to vomit all the same. All this time, Clarus’ children had been mourning him, and he’d been being tortured. For _weeks._ What information could they even want for him at this point? They’d already taken Insomnia. They’d already killed the enemy King. What more could Loqi want from–

 

Son of a bitch. This was the answer to the question Ignis and Aranea had voiced multiple times in the past few weeks. This was how Loqi had done it. This was how he won the Empire’s favor back. He’d hand delivered the King’s Shield, a man who’d been almost as much a thorn in the Empire’s side as Regis himself. How many assassinations had Clarus thwarted in the past, the Empire’s or otherwise?

 

Nyx hadn’t actually kept track, but he was pretty sure Clarus had been standing behind Regis in almost every broadcast he’d made… ever.

 

“You got any information they even need at this point?” Nyx asked. Not the best conversation opener, but it beat bringing the man’s kids up and getting him to realize that they’d never even once thought to verify whether he was dead. Not that Nyx blamed him for not dying before King Regis, but the fact that even his children were so sure he’d die first that they didn’t even check… Well, that would hardly do anything for their already bleak situation.

 

“Plenty,” Clarus said flatly. “But it’s more likely that my heart will give out before my mind. You, however, don’t hold that advantage.”

 

Advantage. Having an older body that could give out was an advantage.

 

Nyx laughed dryly – humorlessly. “I don’t even think I have anything they don’t already know.”

 

Clarus’ worn stare pierced through the dark. “That won’t stop them.”

 

Biggs groaned then, stirring and trying to rub his head.

 

“Hey, take it easy,” Nyx warned lowly, not knowing if Biggs’ head hurt as much as his own. At least this dim lighting was good for something.

 

His words didn’t seem to have too much effect, because Biggs started looking around frantically, trying to get up. “Wedge–”

 

“Hey, hey!” Nyx pushed down on his chest. “Calm down.”

 

Biggs slumped a bit, reaching up to gingerly rub his forehead as he cringed. “Wedge…”

 

Nyx tried to swallow the strangled feeling in his throat. “I’m sorry…”

 

Biggs squeezed his eyes shut, moisture leaking out from under his eyelids. “We were already bloody prisoners… ’E wasn’t a threat… None of us were.”

 

“You’ll find that sort of thing makes no difference to Loqi.” Clarus struggled to his feet, somehow managing to keep his head high and regal looking despite how much pain he had to be in. His once ever-crisp Crownsguard uniform was in tatters, loosely hanging off his bony figure.

 

Six, had they even fed him since he’d gotten here? Clarus was far from fat before, but now…

 

Biggs miserably looked to Clarus. Nyx couldn’t tell if he recognized him or not, but unless his head really was hurting, he was bound to recognize the uniform.

 

Lowering himself down next to the two, Clarus continued, “His time in prison has only made him further deranged. He’s gone beyond ruthless at this point – he’s downright cruel for the sake of it. He’s also taken precautions should anyone attempt suicide. The guards outside are armed and have potions.”

 

Nyx didn’t think he wanted to know for sure how Clarus knew that, but he could guess pretty well. If Ignis had been strong enough as a teenager to try and take his own life to avoid giving up information to the Empire, then the King’s lifelong friend and Shield certainly was. He’d probably tried to take himself out of the picture pretty quickly after being captured, but there were only so many ways to go about killing one’s self in an empty room fast enough that magic couldn’t repair the damage.

 

…Well. Alone, anyway. Snapped necks were a pretty quick way of ensuring someone was dead. But even if they took that route, at least one of them would still be left. Probably two, actually, because they’d likely be separated after the first time.

 

Biggs laughed humorlessly, just lying back on the ground like he genuinely didn’t have the will to even sit up. “He can do what the bloody ’ell he wants. Not like I know anything to tell.”

 

Clarus raised an eyebrow, looking at Nyx. “Interesting, that you’d show up with him of all people. I take it Highwind is involved with this matter as well?”

 

Nyx nodded. Loqi already knew that much, even if this conversation was being listened in on. “With us.”

 

And Nyx would guess that she was none too happy about Wedge, either.

 

* * *

 

 

The graves probably weren’t as deep as they should have been, and they certainly weren’t as nice as Ignis would have preferred, but they would have to suffice. Aranea had carved Wedge’s name and the dates of his birth and death into a log and placed it at the head of his grave. They couldn’t do the same for the girl, but Ignis left a blank log and small collection of flowers all the same. Aranea had disappeared into the forest earlier and returned with something that looked fairly close to black roses for Wedge’s grave. Ignis didn’t know how she’d known they were there or where she’d gotten them, but they were fitting. Wedge always had favored his black coats.

 

With Aranea crouching down by the graves, Ignis withdrew to give her some time alone. He’d be within range of a call should she need something, and there was someone else he needed to talk to.

 

Ignis leaned on a fencepost near where he’d tied his chocobo and absently managed to pull up Noct’s number.

 

It only rang once before it was picked up.

 

“ _Iggy, hey. How’s it going? Everything okay?_ ”

 

Ignis closed his eyes, letting the assurance that Noct was fine comfort him. “I’m afraid not, Noct.”

 

“ _…What’s wrong?_ ”

 

“Loqi, Noct. He found us.”

 

“ _Shi– I mean… yeah, you know what, I’m not sorry in this case: shit. How the hell did that happen? I thought you were hunting him?_ ”

 

Ignis honestly couldn’t care less about Noct’s language at the moment. “I’m not certain. Aranea’s contact gave us two locations, and we split up to cover them both. Aranea and I had no luck on our end, and Nyx reported the same on his, but when Aranea and I reached our rendezvous point with them–”

 

“ _Oh, Six… Nyx… Is he…?_ ”

 

“Captured.” Ignis spat out the word. He hated it. “Along with Biggs. I am… afraid we didn’t arrive soon enough to save Wedge. He’s dead, Noct.”

 

For a moment, all Ignis could hear was Noct’s shaky breath on the other end of the line.

 

“ _…Do you have any idea where Loqi might have taken Nyx and Biggs?_ ”

 

Ignis rubbed his forehead. “None thus far.”

 

“ _I’ll… I’ll see if I can find anything out on our end… Maybe Cor will have… something._ ”

 

One could only hope. “Right.” He didn’t expect the Marshal to have anything now when he didn’t before, though.

 

“Iggy…”

 

“Yes?” Noct was holding back something he wanted to say, clearly.

 

“ _I think we should meet back up._ ”

 

Ignis sighed. “Noct…”

 

“ _No, I know your reasoning, but come on. This changes things. You guys split and got hit. We’d have less chance of that happening if we were all together._ ”

 

He did have a point. At the very least, regrouping and strategizing would not be a bad call. But he knew he wouldn’t have the willpower to leave them again if they met up.

 

“…I’ll speak with Aranea and see what she says. We don’t entirely know what went wrong with her contact’s information.” It was a stalling tactic, for certain, but hopefully one not too obvious.

 

Noct’s sigh was twice as long and three times as exasperated as Ignis’ had been. “Right. Sure. But call me again in like a half hour.”

 

…Definitely obvious, then.

 

“ _I’ll fill the guys in_.”

 

Guys? “Is Gladio back with you, then?”

 

“ _Oh, yeah. He showed up earlier today, done with whatever he was doing, apparently._ ”

 

“Good to hear.” That was a great bit of ease to his nerves. Not that he didn’t trust Monica, but Gladio was Noct’s Shield for a reason. “And yes, please do inform them. I’ll call back soon.”

 

“ _Gotcha. And Ignis?_ ”

 

“Yes, Noct?” Bloody hell he was tired all of a sudden.

 

“ _…I’m sorry about Wedge. I didn’t really get to know him like you and Aranea did, but he seemed like a good guy._ ”

 

Ignis sucked in a slow breath. He remembered the first time he’d truly noticed Wedge. His focus had mostly been on Aranea and Biggs at the time, but he’d noted the quieter man. And then Aranea had had him adjust Loqi’s poorly tied knots around Ignis’ wrists. He remembered wondering why a mercenary would be so gentle when securing a captive. He remembered the wordless frustration in Wedge’s eyes at Loqi. He remembered not wanting to break Wedge’s neck when he’d had the chance. He remembered Wedge taking a stand against Loqi before he’d been blackmailed into submission again. He remembered surprised the wash of worry he’d felt when Pelna had stabbed Wedge. He remembered the relief he’d felt when he’d heard that Biggs and Wedge had escaped custody.

 

“…Yes he was, Noct. He truly was.”

 

Wedge would be missed. And not just by Aranea and Biggs, either.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis dropped his phone into his lap, his still wet hair sending droplets down his neck and into the collar of his shirt as he sat cross-legged on the hotel bed in Lestallum. He absently trailed a hand up to massage the bullet scar on his arm. He really hadn’t spoken with Wedge much, but after everything that had happened with them…

 

He sighed. Damn Loqi.

 

The door of the hotel room clicked open, and Gladio and Prompto pushed in, laughing about something as they carried in a couple bags of groceries.

 

And then the laughter fell silent.

 

“Uh… Noct? You okay, buddy?” Prompto grabbed the discarded towel Noct had been using after he’d gotten out of the shower before Ignis called and brought it over. “You’re kind of dripping there a bit.”

 

Gladio’s eyes narrowed. “Noct, what’s wrong?”

 

Noct switched from rubbing his arm to pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wedge is dead. Nyx and Biggs were captured.”

 

Prompto dropped the towel and Gladio swore.

 

“Any leads on where they were taken?” Gladio asked.

 

Noctis shook his head before blinking out of his daze. Then he surprised even himself with his abrupt move off of the bed. “Come on. We have work to do.”

 


	34. The Pain

 

Aranea didn’t linger long by Wedge’s grave, and her cold fury was more than enough to tell Ignis why – she was set out for revenge. Ignis longed to try and talk her back to reason, to give her the same speech about how revenge wouldn’t help, but… Oh, goodness that would have been so hypocritical. And then there was a whole matter of, well, it _might_ help, actually. As far as they knew, Biggs and Nyx were still alive. And a vengeful Aranea… well, Ignis hadn’t really seen it before, but he certainly knew he didn’t want to stand in the way of that.

 

“Have you any ideas for a plan?” Ignis asked her softly as she joined him over by their chocobos.

 

“Other than driving my lance through that bastard’s heart, not really,” she growled.

 

He wished he could stall further, but what was the point? “Noct… he believes it might be best if we were to meet up.”

 

She shot him a confused look. “And you’re okay with that?”

 

He hesitated, then shrugged. “What other choices have we at this point? Our efforts have turned up nothing. You’re contact–”

 

“Is dead, probably,” she said flatly.

 

Ignis tilted his head. If she had received word that her contact was dead, when had that been? And who had told her her contact was dead if her contact was the only one sending her information?

 

Aranea shrugged at his look. “She wouldn’t have sold me out, but they found us somehow. They probably fed her the information and then took her out. We probably only got out okay because she’d found the other bit of information and they didn’t realize she sent that too.”

 

That was all logical, he supposed. Loqi had definitely set up the trap on the others, but if he’d known where Ignis and Aranea were going to be, he most definitely would have had a trap set for them as well. They were the ones he really wanted. Now the others were bait and entertainment for him.

 

Bastard. No matter how much Ignis thought he couldn’t hate Loqi any more, the man always managed to find a way to make himself worse.

 

Aranea ran a hand through her hair, and Ignis found himself missing her usual teasing disposition. “Well, like you said… What other choices do we have? Wander around and hope to find him at some random Imperial base? At least with your guys we have backup, and Loqi’s going to be after them too soon enough, or at least Pretty Boy.”

 

And Prompto. He knew Prompto had been the one to shoot him back in Insomnia. Loqi wasn’t going to let that slide. If he found Prompto he’d probably shoot him and leave him to bleed out, and that was likely a mercy compared to what he had to be planning for himself and Aranea.

 

“Very well,” Ignis said, his tongue thick. “I’ll let him know that we intend to meet with them.” It was a risk, all right, just like it had been before. But divide and conquer was a powerful strategy that had already cost them a friend. Ignis didn’t intend to lose another that way.

 

To Lestallum it was, he supposed.

 

* * *

 

 

It only took a few hours. Longer than Nyx expected, really. But sitting in the cell in silence was its own kind of torture, he supposed. He could tell that all three of them had questions they were yearning to ask, but with such a strong likelihood of the Empire watching and listening in on the cell, they had no chance to voice those questions, really.

 

Well, maybe there were some safe topics, but Nyx wasn’t one for chatter at the moment anyway. Somehow, he doubted Clarus and Biggs were either. Well. Maybe Clarus. He had to be dying to ask about his kids, but he knew he couldn’t safely get any answers in here.

 

…His thoughts honestly seemed like they were going in circles. Maybe that was the point of waiting as long as they did. Maybe they were letting their prisoners get nervous first. Whatever their reasoning was, they weren’t waiting any more.

 

He wished he could have struggled more when the guards started dragging him back out of the cell, but he knew he needed to conserve his energy for what was to come, and struggling just a little against some guards wasn’t going to actually do anything.

 

“Stay strong, Captain,” Clarus hissed as Nyx was dragged away, a reserved fury burning in his gaze. He looked as though he might honestly be considering taking the guards on with his battered, broken, and – frankly – old body, but he stayed seated, merely glaring death instead of acting.

 

Nyx had only been able to give him a stiff nod in return. Whatever they tried, it wouldn’t be enough. …Not that it really mattered if they did. All his information was outdated. He didn’t know where the Prince was. He didn’t know where the Oracle was anymore. Ignis was the one that talked to the Prince, and Pelna and the Princess had been headed to the damn Disk weeks back. Tortured or not, he had nothing to give them.

 

He let out a dry laugh as they chained his arms above him, leaving him shirtless and with his feet only just touching the ground. Really. The was just so typically Loqi – a hopeless and incompetent effort to accomplish what his masters set him up to do.

 

And then there he was. The asshole of the hour, standing before Nyx with the smuggest expression ever known to mankind.

 

Nyx really wanted to wipe that look off his face, even if it made things worse.

 

He made a show of looking up at the chains attached to his arms. “You know, usually I’d insist someone at least buy me dinner before we get to this.”

 

Whether Nyx died today or lived to be a hundred years old, he would cherish the utter destruction of Loqi’s confident disposition forever. The drop of Loqi’s expression was almost comical it was so abrupt, and Nyx sneered at him, relishing his small victory.

 

Rage colored Loqi’s face as he stepped forwards, hissing into Nyx’s face. “We’ll see just how sharp that tongue of yours is in a few hours.”

 

“Still sharper than yours.” Nyx grinned back at him. “Though I guess that’s not giving myself _much_ credit.”

 

Loqi’s hands shot out, one catching Nyx’s braids and pulling back hard while the other clamped around Nyx’s exposed throat. “I’m going to enjoy watching you break.”

 

Nyx had a retort for that, but not the air to make it. Loqi was clearly enjoying himself as he stayed in that position, squeezing harder and harder until Nyx’s wheezing attempts at breathing had all but died out and the black spots in his vision spiraled in enough to spare him the sight of Loqi’s face entirely.

 

The slow, stretched moment of when he was about to lose consciousness hung over him for an eternity, and then the fog lifted, the pain in his throat no longer masked by his clouded mind as he tried to draw air through the abused pathway to his lungs.

 

Coughs wracked his form, making the chains above him clatter as they were jostled about. He struggled to stay on his feet, not wanting to add dislocated arms to the mix. The tears that burned across his face were a normal, unstoppable reaction to being strangled, but he still hated the sign of weakness they carried. He glared at Loqi as best he could as soon as he was able.

 

“Yes…” Loqi looked pleased. “Let’s see how long you hold out…”

 

Nyx managed to get enough air in to hold his breath a moment, and he spat at Loqi. “Gonna… hafta… do better… ’an that…”

 

Loqi grinned, cold and cruel. “Oh, I intend to.”

 

There was a shuffling behind him – a guard, no doubt – and then something struck his bare back. Pain like fire tore through him as a scream ripped through his already sore throat. No, not fire. Lightning. Electricity coursing through his every nerve.

 

His wrists strained against the cold metal cuffs, and they dug into his skin, biting at his flesh more every second. But that was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the white-hot agony that was becoming his entire existence.

 

And then it stopped. He didn’t even realize at first that the pressure from his back was gone, but then the pain was withdrawing slowly, leaving him stinging and twitching all over. Distantly, he realized he could taste blood in his mouth.

 

Well, shit. He’d bitten something. Maybe his cheek. Maybe through his tongue. Hard to say.

 

He spat again, trying to ignore the buzzing in his skull. “Whatever you want, you won’t get it.”

 

Loqi looked behind him, giving the guard a nod.

 

Bracing for the pain didn’t help much. His eyes still felt as though they were going to be seared within their sockets by the time the second round was over.

 

“If you want information…” Nyx paused to suck in another shaky breath. “You might want to try actually asking some questions, dumbass.”

 

“All in good time, my dear _Captain_.” Loqi smirked once more, signaling the guard again.

* * *

 

 

Nyx didn’t remember being released from his chains. He barley remembered being dragged back to his cell. Just a couple hazy blurs of that damned hallway again. And then he was jarred awake as he was dropped onto the floor.

 

His head struck the stone, snapping him back to some form of awareness, though everything was still blurred in a sort of warped yellow lighting. His head was buzzing to no end, a foreign and annoying noise in his ears.

 

His body was curled in of its own volition, his arms and legs twitching at random times.

 

“Bloody ’ell!”

 

There were hands on Nyx’s shoulder, and he flinched under the touch, his skin still stinging.

 

“Let him rest,” Clarus said, his voice sounding a tunnel away.

 

“’E’s shivering…” Biggs was shrugging off his coat. Or… Nyx thought he was. That seemed like what the blob was doing.

 

“That’s not shivering.”

 

“…Oh, Six.” Biggs seemed to forget the coat in favor of checking Nyx’s pulse.

 

Nyx was no doctor, but he was pretty sure his heart was beating faster than it should have.

 

“Electrical shock torture. Give him time.”

 

Even with his addled brain, Nyx realized something: Clarus hadn’t even needed to check on him to know what was wrong. He’d been here for _weeks_. He had to have been going through this hell _for weeks._ Six, how had he even survived that? Nyx felt physically worse than when he’d been impaled and stabbed. Mentally, at least he was better. Everything was confusing as hell, but that was still better than the realization he was going to die. Or thought he was at the time. Right now he was alive. He wasn’t going to die when Loqi wasn’t done with him. There was no chance of worry _or_ relief from death.

 

Nyx’s arms and legs continued spasming as he drifted off under Biggs’ hold, falling back into a light sleep.

 

When he stirred next he could taste blood again. His cheek hurt. His _everything_ hurt. But he was somehow warm, despite them taking his shirt before. He snuggled further into the white jacket draped over his shoulders.

 

Nyx sent Biggs a mental thanks as he drifted back off again, only this time it was far more peaceful.

 

He would take all the peace he could get when he could get it right now. It wouldn’t be much. Not much at all. Loqi would be back for him for more. Who knew if he really didn’t already have the information he kept asking for? Maybe he just _enjoyed_ torturing.

 

The question kept ringing in his ear.

 

_Where is the Oracle?_

 

Joke was on them, and Nyx took solace in that. No matter how far things went, he’d never be able to answer their questions.

 

Maybe Loqi would eventually figure that out, but certainly not today. If he did start to suspect, Nyx figured he would be dead pretty quickly.

 


	35. The Pain (2)

 

Noctis gripped the sides of the hotel sink, panting softly as his spiked heart rate finally began to slow. He felt deaf in xsboth ears with the weird and muffled way his pulse was thrumming along, and his skin felt like it was boiling with how much he was sweating.

 

Great. Just great. Because with everything going on, he definitely had time to be dealing with his nightmares again. And without Iggy here to help him this time.

 

Maybe he could call–

 

Nope. Nope, nope, nope, Ignis definitely had enough on his plate without this. He was dealing with daymares that he couldn’t wake up from like Noctis could. Noctis wasn’t a kid anymore. He could handle it on his own.

 

And if not, he could pull an Ignis and chug an Ebony and hope Gladio didn’t notice anything was off.

 

…That was a terrible idea. Maybe he should not do that.

 

Whatever. He would still manage somehow.

 

There were people far worse off than him right now, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx didn’t know how Clarus had done it. He was trying to stay strong. He _was_ staying strong. But Clarus had been here for _weeks_. Nyx’s head was groggy, but he could still tell that Clarus’ wounds were fresh. He’d been undergoing the same things as Nyx, but for so much longer.

 

The Amicitia household was full of some strong sons of bitches, that was for sure. Mentally and physically. Not only was Clarus still alive after all the beatings his older body had taken, but he was still completely sane. After his third round with Loqi, Nyx was next to positive that he’d never be able to last that long and say the same. Maybe he wouldn’t give anything up, but losing his mid was definitely a possibility. Loqi had been none too kind about letting him rest long enough to fully regain his bearings.

 

Loqi might have been an incompetent field operative, but damn if he didn’t know how to torture someone.

 

The one bright side to all this was that Biggs had been left alone thus far. Nyx wouldn’t have put it past Loqi to torture someone for no reason, but Biggs honestly didn’t have anything Loqi needed to know. Nyx suspected the only reason he was here was to bait Aranea–

 

The scream that ripped through Nyx’s throat tore at the already tender walls there, and they screamed back at him.

 

And then the pressure disappeared, granting him just a few moments of agony that were still somehow blissful in comparison to what he’d just been feeling.

 

“You know what I want, Captain. Just answer the question and this can all stop. If not… well, I do suppose we’ll have to move on to something else. I might not have gotten much out of young Scientia after nearly drowning him, but perhaps that tactic will work better on you.”

 

Six. Loqi didn’t even have any idea what he’d done to Ignis’ whole life.

 

Nyx tried to suppress a cough. They hurt too much. Distantly, he could feel the tacky warmth of his own blood sliding down his arms from where his restraints had broken through the skin of his wrists. Biggs had tried to tend to those last time he was in their cell. Not much he could do, really, but he’d tried. Nyx appreciated that. It might be the last act of kindness he ever knew.

* * *

 

 

Ignis had known from the moment he met Aranea that she was dangerous, and since then he’d seen her in action and fought alongside her. That said, he’d never witnessed how absolutely, truly terrifying she could be until now. He wasn’t certain whether he should assist in their fights against wildlife or just stay the hell out of her way because she didn’t appear to be needing any help as she rage killed everything within her vicinity. He winced as she took the head off of a sabertusk in one harsh strike before stalking back to her chocobo.

 

“Aranea…” he said quietly.

 

“What?” she snapped, though he knew she wasn’t actually angry with him.

 

He hesitated, licking his lips. This needed to be said. “You cautioned me against rashly acting on my feelings for revenge. I feel I must offer you the same advice in return.”

 

“There’s a difference between acting rashly and being pissed off while we’re in safer surroundings.”

 

Ignis wasn’t certain he classified the wilds where everything was trying to eat them as safe, but he supposed it was _safer_ than challenging Loqi and the Empire. “…Very well.”

 

He too was _pissed off,_ as she’d so eloquently put things. He hadn’t spoken with Wedge much, but his presence had been pleasant, and now there was a very high chance Biggs and Nyx would be dead soon as well. Loqi had no true reason to keep them alive. Except as bait. And maybe as a source of information in Nyx’s case. But how long could that truly last? Insomnia had fallen. How much more could Nyx have that Loqi would actually need?

 

Ignis sighed solemnly. He only hoped meeting up would improve their chances rather than just putting Noct in further danger. At least this way they might face him together.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis waited until night when they were all gathered around a table in Lestallum for dinner to break the news. The day had been chaotic – taking on hunts to earn some extra cash and whatnot – and the calm break of their evening meal seemed like an ideal time.

 

He set his meat skewer down, propping his elbows on the table. He doubted he’d be pausing to eat more in the next few minutes. “Ignis is headed here.”

 

Prompto’s slumped shoulders straightened abruptly, his eyes widening as well. “For reals? You got him to agree?”

 

Noctis nodded, carefully observing Gladio to see if he had any protests. “At this point, we’re both pretty sure Loqi’s gunning for us. So… better to face him together rather than split up where he can pick us off easier.”

 

Sure enough, Gladio was frowning faintly, his dinner hanging from one hand as though he’d forgotten about it enough that he didn’t even think to put it down. “Is he doing any better?”

 

Noct hesitated. “Not… really. He had some trouble earlier this week.”

 

Gladio raised an eyebrow at that, gaze briefly flickering to something behind Noctis before returning to him. “Define _trouble_.”

 

Noct chewed the inside of his lip. “Biggs kind of set him off by accident when he was trying to make a joke.” He glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t find what kept bothering Gladio.

 

Gladio winced, leaning to see past Noctis again. “How bad was it?”

 

“…Pretty bad.”

 

“As bad as, like… before?” Prompto asked tightly.

 

Well, there wasn’t really getting around this. “…Worse, from what I heard.”

 

“ _Worse?_ ” Prompto squawked. “How could it have been _worse?_ ”

 

Gladio winced, again looking back to Noctis. What was he up to? Noctis knew he usually kept an eye out for trouble, but he wasn’t usually this obvious about it.

 

“Trust me, it can,” Noctis grumbled. He’d never told Ignis, but a couple of times after Ignis’ bad attacks, Noct had gone and thrown up afterwards. Seeing Ignis like that was never easy, especially when there was still a voice in the back of Noctis’ head screaming that it was all his fault because Ignis’ suffering had all been for him.

 

“And he’s coming back anyway?” Gladio didn’t seem judgy, just curious. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of why he left?”

 

Well, Noctis had thought that was dumb anyway, so he wasn’t complaining. At least about Ignis coming back. There was plenty else to complain about. “I mean… yeah, but the chance of Loqi finding one of us and using us against each other is what he’s really worried about now. I guess he sees himself as a threat to me either way–” Noctis rolled his eyes as he spoke those words. “–but he sees Loqi as the _worse_ threat.”

 

“Well, he ain’t wrong…” Gladio muttered. “Savage little bastard will use anything he can against the two of you. And… probably you too, Prompto.”

 

“Eh?” Prompto blinked.

 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “You shot him, remember? And you told him that. He may hate Noct and Iggy more, but you’re definitely on his hit list now.”

 

Prompto opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. “…Oops.”

 

“Well, at least you aren’t on it, Gladio,” Noctis said with an obviously false cheery tone.

 

Gladio snorted. “Lucky me. Only reason I’m not there too was because I was so damn useless during that whole thing.”

 

“You were not,” Noctis protested with a scowl. Since when did Gladio have confidence issues? “You…” Well. Damn. What exactly _had_ Gladio done? He’d picked Noctis up from school and… stood by Noctis’ dad and… wow, okay so he really hadn’t had much to do back then. “Um. You helped from the Citadel and guarded me when you had to pull me from school?”

 

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “…Right. Yeah, I guarded you for one car ride, and then later you got kidnapped. My ancestors would be so proud.”

 

Prompto choked on the snicker he tried to cover. “Sorry.”

 

Noctis shook his head. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, big guy, I’m pretty sure he’s gonna try to kill you too.”

 

“Hey, wait, what about Aranea?” Prompto wondered, resuming his dinner. “Ig she onna ay there?”

 

Noctis took a moment to translate that. “No… She’s coming with him.”

 

Prompto did a really good imitation of the surprised emoji on their phones. “Oh! Man, that’s got to be awkward for Iggy… I can’t imagine, like, trying to act chill around someone who kidnapped me…”

 

Noctis almost laughed. Act chill. He had no idea. If Ignis really did like Aranea like he said, he was probably undergoing daily torture. Noctis had seen girls try to flirt with Ignis before. It was… it was really pathetically sad, actually. All Ignis’ composure and level-headed reasoning gone in an instant, leaving him a blubbering, scarlet-skinned mess. Having Aranea around constantly… it was a wonder Ignis was still sane.

 

“They’re actually on pretty good terms,” Noctis settled with. Again, not his secret to tell. No way he was breaking what Ignis told him in confidence to someone else, even Prompto or Gladio.

 

“Well, she’s obviously earned his trust if he went to her after leaving us. And she is one hell of a fighter from what we know. Might be good to have her around.” He frowned at something over Noct’s shoulder yet _again._ “What the hell is going on around here lately?”

 

Oh, so he was finally saying something about it. “What do you mean?”

 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “They’ve been setting up decorations all day.”

 

Decorations? Really? Noctis gave Gladio a look. “That’s what you’ve been looking at this whole time? I don’t think the decorations are going to attack me, Gladio.”

 

“Ohmygosh!” Prompto cried, dropping his skewered meat. “Noct! Dude! It’s the Assassin’s Festival!”

 

Wait, _what?_

 

Man, finally something to lift their spirits.

 

* * *

 

 

_“Where is the Oracle?”_

 

Nyx gasped, trying to suck in as much air as possible during the short moments when he was actually allowed to breathe. No wonder Scientia’s head was so screwed up, having gone through this at nineteen. It was a wonder he was as functional as he was.

 

Nyx choked the leftover water from his lungs, the droplets clinging to the delicate tunnels within him that were never supposed to handle liquid. His throat felt like the water was actually acid, courtesy of all of his screaming before. The rough hand entwined in his hair locks pulled his head into an angle that made his neck ache.

 

Surprisingly, Nyx found himself with enough coherency to wonder if waterboarding was worse like this – his head forced into a bucket of questionable cleanliness – or the way Ignis had experienced it. He was pretty sure both were awful.

 

The funny thing was, he wasn’t even sure if he could have answered Loqi if he wanted to at this stage. Speaking would be hard with his throat like this.

 

“Where is the Prince?”

 

“He’sa King now…” Nyx slurred. Huh. So he could still speak. Sort of.

 

The hand in his hair forced his head back into the bucket before Nyx could take another breath to replace the one he’d used to talk.

Nyx wondered how much more his body could take. Loqi probably had a lot of other methods he wanted to try out. Nyx almost hoped he’d be dead before they got to those, but his spark of stubbornness refused to give in just yet. Clarus had endured this. Nyx could too.

 

He could…

 

He had to…

 

He couldn’t leave Clarus and Biggs alone in this place.

 

Again, he tried to drag in a breath as he was yanked from the water. Only, this time he was dropped off to the side, allowed to collapse onto the floor as the hand in his hair disappeared. He coughed weakly, his cheek scraping against the stone there.

 

“Sir, at this rate, he’s going to be dead before he gives us anything.”

 

Oh. Huh. A smart lackey. Great. Just what he didn’t need.

 

“Oh, he won’t be. I know what will break him. Take him back to his cell for now. I’ll need him more aware for what’s coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gets megaphone* SCREEWWWWWW YOUUUUUUUU LOQI


	36. The Pain (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which everything still sucks for most people.

 

“This is _so_ cool!” Prompto was nearly hopping in place as he shifted through the robes that had been set up only minutes prior.

 

It _was_ pretty cool. They were getting first pick over all the costumes on sale for the festival, and they were seriously legit. Any other time Noctis would have been over the moon, but, for obvious reasons, the excitement was tainted.

 

Gladio sighed from where he was leaning against the nearby wall. “Is this really the time for this?”

 

“No,” Noctis admitted, pulling an Altaïr costume out to inspect it. Yeah, he was totally going with this one. “But we’ve got nothing to go on. Nothing we can do until Ignis gets here and Cor gets back to us, so I’m instigating a Royal Morale Boost.”

 

“Ignis likes Assassin’s Creed too, doesn’t he?” Prompto perked up even more than he already was. “You had to have included that in his video game education.”

 

“Of course I did.” Noctis scoffed. “What do you take me for? He got pretty into them, too.”

 

“…Think he could use a Royal Morale Boost?”

 

Noctis paused, then started digging throughout the clothing rack with more intensity. “Oh, hell yes! This is exactly the distraction he needs with all the crap going on!”

 

Gladio scowled. “…Noct, do you really think he’s going to be in the mood? Once he gets here we need to–”

 

“I know, I know!” Noctis kept searching. They _had_ to have the costume here he wanted. “If Cor’s gotten back to us by the time he gets here, yeah, we ditch the festival and go, obviously. But if we still don’t have any info to go on, then sitting around worrying is the last thing Ignis needs to be doing.”

 

“…Fine, that works, I guess.” Gladio still didn’t look keen on the idea, but his posture relaxed.

 

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this either, big guy.” Prompto lobbed some robes at him, which Gladio’s years of reflexes actually allowed him to catch despite the suddenness. “Those will work great for you! I’m gonna need pictures.”

 

Noctis snorted. Yeah, Bayek’s robes would work pretty great for Gladio. “Perfect. What about you, Prompto?”

 

Prompto scoffed. “Dude, there’s, like, only one blond assassin lead.” He pointed to the Edward robes.

 

“…Yeah, because I look like Altaïr.” Noctis grinned. “You just want to be a pirate, don’t you?”

 

“…Maybe.” Prompto shrugged, grinning back. “Should we get one for Aranea too? And what about Iggy?”

 

“Evie for Aranea. Definitely.” Noctis had already been thinking about that. “And I’m thinking Arno for Ignis. The accents match.”

 

“Jacob would work too, then.”

 

…No. That was a terrible idea. “He’s nothing like Jacob.”

 

“He’s nothing like Arno either.”

 

True. But… “Yeah, but… there’s other… reasons.” Reasons he couldn’t get into without, like, betraying Ignis’ confidence.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Just… with Aranea being Evie, that might be awkward.”

 

“I’m not following any of this,” Gladio muttered.

 

“I’m not either.” Prompto was frowning. “I mean, Jacob and Evie are siblings… Is that what you mean?”

 

Yes, yes it was. Noctis would rather not get the Worst Wingman Ever award by getting Ignis and the woman he liked _sibling_ costumes.

 

“Just trust me.” Noctis huffed. “Look, there’s an Arno costume right here!” He snagged the blue coat off the rack. “He’ll look boss in this.” He wondered if they had an Elise costume… Nah. Arno and Elise might have been a thing, but Evie was Ignis’ favorite. Getting that costume for Aranea would be great.

 

“…Pretty sure he’s just going to look like a nerd in cosplay thanks to his glasses,” Gladio pointed out.

 

“Oh, shut up, Bayek.”

 

Gladio had a point, though. Ignis probably was going to look like a dork. Oh, well. Who cared? Noctis was going to make sure Ignis had fun, dammit. He needed it.

 

They were all going to have fun while they had the chance before things went to hell again.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx felt surprisingly coherent when he awoke. Cold and in pain, yes, but more aware than he had been since his first round of hell with Loqi.

 

He blinked blearily, letting his eyes adjust to the dim yellow lighting of the prison room that had been a welcome sight in comparison to the torture chambers Loqi kept having him dragged off to. Somewhat absently, Nyx noted that he must have been out for a while this time, because his hair actually felt dry against his skin. He had to have been out for hours.

 

He swallowed. Right. Loqi had said he needed him more aware for what was next. He was _letting_ him recover right now.

 

The last thing Nyx wanted to do was move, but he needed to check on Clarus and Biggs. He shifted slowly, trying to roll onto his left arm and off of his numb right one, which he’d been lying on.

 

“Easy.”

 

A hand landed on his arm, and Nyx placed the voice as belonging to Clarus.

 

Nyx stilled, sucking in a breath that made him want to die with every millimeter of his airway that it crawled past. “How long?” he managed to rasp out.

 

“They didn’t exactly let me keep my phone.”

 

Right. Of course. Part of breaking someone – disorienting them in any way possible, even taking away their sense of time.

 

“Guess?”

 

“Six hours, at least.”

 

Nyx wondered how long Loqi would deem enough.

 

He dragged his gaze around the room, trying to find Biggs. He hoped Loqi hadn’t taken him.

 

No… he hadn’t. Biggs was there, he was just curled in on himself with his coat tucked around him as he sat in one of the corners. He was awake, watching them but not saying anything. The usual laughter lines that etched his face were pulled in the wrong direction as he stared on miserably.

 

Nyx wondered how long he and Wedge had known each other. Many years, from what he’d seen. Almost like… almost like him and Libertus.

 

“There was some food dropped in a while ago. You should eat if you have the strength.” Clarus helped him slowly sit up. “They won’t allow you to starve yourself anyway.”

 

Six. How many different ways had Clarus tried to kill himself while he’d been here?

 

Nyx gave him a wobbly nod only, wanting to spare his poor throat any more use.

 

His heart skipped a beat, his innards seeming to twist as the door to the cell was yanked open. Dammit. Loqi had probably ordered his men to alert him the moment they knew Nyx was awake.

 

Nyx couldn’t summon up the energy to fight back as the guards wrestled him and Clarus apart. Strangely enough, though, they didn’t make to drag either of them from the room – they just forced Nyx closer to the door before making sure he and Clarus were facing each other. And then they dragged Biggs over and put him next to Clarus as Loqi waltzed in.

 

…Oh, Six. Nyx had a very bad feeling about this.

 

“Good morning, Captain,” Loqi greeted, his men carrying in some equipment Nyx couldn’t quite see past them. “Did you have a good night’s rest?”

 

“Could have used a nicer pillow,” Nyx said huskily. He berated himself mentally almost instantly. He didn’t need to antagonize Loqi while Clarus and Biggs were in the line of fire.

 

Loqi just looked pleased. “Yes, I’m sure. You do look much more aware, however, and that’s what I need.” He stepped closer to Nyx, leaning so he was just above him. “You may be resilient, Ulric, but everyone has their weaknesses. Tell me… where is the Oracle?”

 

Nyx said nothing. Loqi was right about his head being clearer – he knew where this was going. Maybe not exactly, but he got the idea.

 

The seconds ticked by almost painfully slowly before Loqi stood at his full height again. He stretched a hand out, keeping eye contact with Nyx as one of the guards placed a long metal stick into his gloved hand. The tip of the stick was not sharp or blunt for striking, though – it morphed into the shape of the Empire’s symbol and it was glowing orange.

 

Nyx clenched his fists, nails biting into the already damaged and sensitive flesh there.

 

Loqi casually strolled over to Clarus. “And here I’d been thinking I no longer had a use for you. How fortunate I was wrong.” He gave the guards a nod, and one of them grabbed Clarus’ head, forcing him to tilt it so his neck was bared to Loqi.

 

“Any second thoughts, Captain?”

 

Clarus’ steely gaze met Nyx’s, and Nyx understood his meaning perfectly.

 

Not a word. Clarus would rather die. Not that it mattered. Nyx still had no current information to give.

 

“Very well, then.” Loqi jammed the glowing metal onto one side of Clarus’ neck, and the skin’s hissing was almost instantly drowned out by the Shield’s screaming.

 

The flesh beneath Nyx’s nails stung and began to bleed. He couldn’t look away. Even if he’d tried to, the guard behind him had grabbed the back of his neck and was forcing him to stay staring ahead.

 

Clarus was instinctively thrashing around, unable to get away from the hot metal as Loqi kept it firmly in place with the guard’s help.

 

Biggs looked as though he was going to throw up. Nyx felt he might too as the smell hit him in full force.

 

_Help!_

 

Oh Six.

 

_Nyx, help Mother!_

 

Not now. Not now…

 

_Blood. Fire. Smoke._

 

Clarus’ scream died out, and the sudden lack of noise brought Nyx back to the horrible present. Clarus’ weaker groans of pain were muffled by his sealed-together lips, and he glared bloody murder at Loqi as he inspected the brand.

 

The wretch looked proud. “Well, now, that turned out rather well, don’t you think, Captain?”

 

Nyx wanted to take his chances at leaping forwards to strangle the man. He wanted to rip him into a million damn pieces with nothing but his own chapped hands.

Clarus was a Shield who had outlived his King – outlived his best friend. And now he was branded for life with the sign of the enemy scorched into his skin in a place where anyone could see it. Loqi might as well have stabbed his actual spirit and soul. Nyx could only hope Clarus’ children were enough reason to keep him fighting.

 

“Still not a word, Captain?” Loqi stood tall again, taking the longer route to walk around Clarus as he moved over to Biggs. “Of course, you veterans are so good about taking one on behalf of your King – throwing each other to the wolves to save the royalty. I suppose you’re expected to do that.” He stopped behind Biggs, who was subtly shaking and attempting to calm his breathing. “But I do know how sentimental you lot get about civilians. Poor young Scientia. He did seem rather broken up about that father he got killed. I wonder…” He dropped his free hand on Biggs’ shoulder, making him flinch and squeeze his eyes closed. “Will you be so willing to watch him suffer as you are your comrade?”  

 

Bastard. Complete and utter bastard. Biggs would be worse to watch, because he had never signed up for this. Clarus knew what the job entailed. Biggs had just wanted to make a living and care for his mother.

 

Loqi raised the branding iron, aiming for the back of Biggs’ neck rather than the side.

 

“Sir!” Another Imperial burst into the room, coming to a halt and standing at attention as he looked between Nyx and Biggs. Nyx didn’t miss the way he nervously glanced around, clearly not expecting what he stumbled into.

 

“What?” Loqi snapped.

 

“N-new orders, sir!” The guard shoved some sort of data pad at Loqi, who took it with a scowl.

 

Biggs rapidly looked between the two of them, seeming to be almost afraid to hope.

 

After a few moments, Loqi pushed the branding iron back into the waiting hands of one of the guards and swiftly headed for the door. “Don’t think we’re done, Ulric. I suggest you think if your loyalty to that brat of a Prince is worth the death of your morals – among the death of other things!”

 

The guards released them all, exiting after Loqi.

 

Biggs stayed where he was, shaking still. Clarus was managing to stay half sitting up as one hand hovered over the brand on his neck.

 

Nyx dragged himself over to them, thankful that the floors lacked any great amount of friction. “Clarus…”

 

“I’m fine,” Clarus growled out.

 

No. He was definitely not fine. None of them were fine. Loqi might have been distracted for the moment, but Nyx doubted that would last. And he could only hope that those new orders didn’t involve Noctis or Ignis or the Princess.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of costumes, I thought that since they were there earlier than in that actually game that I'd have them grab costumes more... them. Edward uses guns the most and is blond, so I went with him for Prompto. Noct already had his different one, so I left his as it was. Gladio also seemed to fit what he already had pretty well. And as for Arno for Ignis... just LOOK at that coat. It would be awesome on him. I haven't actually finished Syndicate yet, but Evie seemed like a good match for Aranea.


	37. The Solace

 

Since the fall of Insomnia, all Ignis had thought about was regaining control over himself. All he’d wanted was to stop holding everyone else back. He’d wanted to stop being the one always in pain and living in fear. Now he wished the opposite.

 

Seeing Aranea in pain was somehow even worse than his own. She’d always been so steadfast before. And she still was, but… her disposition was different now. She was colder. Angry too, but she was internalizing all of it. That would lead to nothing good. At least when it was him, he could fight in _some_ manner. He couldn’t fight someone else’s inner struggles for them. Not that Aranea had ever needed someone to fight for her, but…

 

Six, he hated to see her like this.

 

“Up ahead. We’re here.”

 

Ignis _had_ noticed the city up ahead, but he hadn’t realized it was actually Lestallum. He’d known how far away it was, but having never been there before and trying to determine distance via chocobo made estimating rather difficult. They were fortunate. Nightfall was just hitting.

 

They dismounted the chocobos once they drew close, and it was an effort not to collapse for the first few strides. So much time spent riding the last few days had not been kind on his body, and it was difficult to ignore the fierce cramping and aching that was present all the way from his heels up to his lower back. It wouldn’t persist, though. He only needed to stretch and walk it off.

 

“I’ll inform Noct that we’ve arrived.” Ignis pulled out his phone, allowing Aranea to take the lead since she was more familiar with the area. “Is there anywhere specific I should tell them to meet us?” Goodness, it would be good to see them all again, even under these circumstances. _Especially_ under these circumstances.

 

“The outlook,” she said, tone next to emotionless and holding none of her usual teasing or charm.

 

“…Very well.” He typed out the message and sent it, looking up to find the city far more… decorated than he’d expected as a large group of people gathered in the middle of the street. A large group of _costumed_ people. In some rather _familiar_ costumes… “What the devil?” Had he walked into Noct or Prompto’s dreamworld?

 

Aranea stopped suddenly, the barest hint of a smile on her face. “Huh. I forgot it was that time again…”

 

There. That slight uplift in her spirits. Perhaps he could play on that and keep her mood at that faintly elevated status. It would be better than the nothing he’d had to work with the last couple of days.

 

“This is a normal occurrence?” Well, Noct couldn’t have known about it, else the Six themselves wouldn’t have been able to stop him from attending.

 

…Were those people up ahead preforming Leaps of Faith?

 

“Yeah.” Aranea started walking again, curving their course a bit in what Ignis guessed was the direction of the outlook. “Biggs and Wedge love… loved this thing. They sent me about a thousand photos last time.”

 

“I would think the Leap of Faith would be a lure for you,” he said gently. He was teasing her, but he didn’t want to seem dismissive of what she was going through.

 

She eyed the jump as they descended some stairs away from it. “…Not gonna lie, it’s tempting. I take it Pretty Boy got you into the series?”

 

“Of course.” Ignis almost chuckled at the memory. “I believe he considered it a key part of my _education_.”

 

Aranea snorted, weaving around the various booths that were set up and the people nearby them. “Well, as far as video games go, Assassin’s Creed is probably higher up on the list of the educational ones, especially when it comes to Lestallum. They aren’t just games here. Their history and local legends are all tied in with them.”

 

Fascinating. How had he not been aware of this? “Are the legends inspired by the games, or is it the other way around?”

 

“…You know, I’m not sure.” Aranea reached the viewfinders at the outlook first, but she ignored them, moving to lean against the railing instead. “Biggs yattered off the whole story to me at one point, but that was years back… I don’t know much about the series itself. Just bits and pieces.”

 

He moved over to stand next to her. It was a bit quieter in this area. “Yes, well, there’s quite a lot to know at this point. Noct hasn’t even played the latest one yet given how new it is. It does seem to be a popular choice here, though.” He’d seen quite a few costumes from Origins. They were difficult _not_ to notice, revealing as they were. He would have been rather mortified wearing something like that himself.

 

Aranea frowned faintly, skimming the crowd. “Which ones are from the latest?”

 

“Ah…” Unsure as to how to describe them, Ignis pointed to one man. “Those costumes match that of Bayek’s attire – he is the current protagonist.”

 

Aranea raised an eyebrow. “Now those are different from that Ezio guy’s robes.”

 

“Quite.” They could hardly be more different.

 

She tilted her head a bit, the soft lighting from the nearby festivities casting a pleasant blend of colors on her face. “Which would you pick for this shindig?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You know…” She pushed off the wall, standing close but not uncomfortably close to him. “If Pretty Boy dragged you into dressing up for this.”

 

“Ah… Well, I’d personally choose the robes from another game than those, but if my choice was to be between only those two, then most definitely Ezio’s.” Those were far more respectable. Not that Bayek’s weren’t, but he lived in a desert – he had good reason for running around in such attire. The same could not be said for people of today’s age, even with the heat from the meteor.

 

That familiar twinkle of mischief within Aranea’s eyes was rekindled from the dull ash it had been since Wedge’s death. “What? The other one not your style, Mr. Top Button?”

 

Ignis almost choked. Well, now, he couldn’t say her nickname wasn’t accurate. But there was nothing wrong with that. So what if he didn’t want to parade around with pectorals on display? Gladio did quite enough of that for all four of them. “…Not particularly, no.”

 

Aranea chuckled, and it was the most welcome sound Ignis had heard in what felt like an age. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

 

“Well, you are welcome to it, then.” Goodness, he could feel his cheeks heating at _that_ mental image. “Though I suspect it would be a bit more, ah, scandalous to the population were you to use that exact version for yourself–”

 

“I didn’t mean for me, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes, lightly prodding his chest. “I meant I wouldn’t mind seeing _you_ in it.”

 

…Oh. He… wasn’t quite certain how to reply to that.

 

She laughed again, more jovial this time. “Six, you can blush, Specs. You’re adorable when you get flustered, you know that?”

 

“ _Adorable?_ ” Ignis repeated, incredulous.

 

“That was a compliment, Specs.” She was looking more entertained by the moment.

 

He’d wanted to get her in a better mood, but this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. And he’d thought the outfit itself would be mortifying. “If you’re a chocobo, perhaps it is.”

 

“Oh, was that _not_ what you were going for with that hairdo you had when we met up?”

 

Ignis scowled, though he was finding himself unable to be actually irritated with her. “You best get used to that style now that I’ll have the proper supplies again.”

 

Her face dropped into an expression of mock horror. “Oh, no. I will find your entire group’s supply of gel and burn it before I let that happen.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

 

“Try me,” she challenged.

 

Ignis sighed deeply. “Why do you insist upon me sporting this unkempt mess?”

 

“Because I _like_ this unkempt mess.” She leaned closer, giving his bangs a ruffle.

 

He tried to get her hand away, snagging it and pulling it from his hair. “You’re a menace.”

 

“So you’ve mentioned.” She switched to ruffling his hair with her other hand instead.

 

He grabbed that one as well, raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you quite through?”

“Maybe.” She leaned even closer. Very close. “Do you want me to be?”

 

“ _Maybe,_ ” he mimicked.  

 

She pulled her hands free of his, keeping them to her sides as she stayed right where she was. “Well, you might want to pick an option there, or I may just make my mind up and go with it.”

The warmth of her breath ghosted over his face, and he found his gaze drawn to her lips. Chapped and split as they were, they still looked more delightful than any meal he’d ever fixed.

 

But she wasn’t moving. Why… ah. She was leaving the choice up to him now that his mind was more clear. She wanted to make certain they were on the same page.

 

Something within him screamed that this was neither the time nor the place. The circumstances could hardly be less ideal. But should he pull away now, he might send a signal that assured he would never get this chance again.

 

He refused. He would not throw this away after all the time he’d spent longing for it. He’d convinced himself that she would never see him that way – that the two of them could never be.

 

As he pressed his lips to hers, he’d never been more relieved or elated to be wrong in his life.

 

The kiss was different from their first. He still wasn’t terribly experienced, but he was also not on the verge of a psychological episode this time either, and that was a definite help. It seemed… _right_ to slide his left arm behind her back and pull her even closer than she already was. Instinctual.

 

The pleased hum she gave buzzed against his lips strangely, and he found himself liking it. Craving more of it, even.

 

He’d been wondering how she could possibly be in the mood for this given the loss they just suffered, but as her palms slid past his collar bones and her arms locked around his neck, he understood. This… this was a moment of peace in the pain. She wasn’t dismissing Wedge, she was merely taking a moment of solace where she could.

 

One of her hands threaded into his hair, her short nails pleasantly scraping along the base of his scalp through her gloves as she deepened the kiss. The action forced a faint noise out of his throat that he hadn’t intended to make, and his free hand flew to her hip, softly settling there as she pulled back for just a moment to grin at him.

 

And then the grin faltered and became more forced. “Um. Specs?”

 

“Yes?” He was trying very hard to keep his voice level as he caught his breath.

 

Aranea bit her lip for a moment, looking torn between amusement and… regret?

 

“…We have an audience.”

 

Ignis snapped his head around.

 

…Oh, Six no. Please no. Literally the only thing worse than it being Noct would be–

 

Gladio. Dressed in one of those Bayek costumes – because bloody _of course_ he was in _that_ one – as he stared at them from several feet away as though they were his first contact with alien beings.

 

Aranea pulled her right hand from Ignis’ hair, and he could feel her giving Gladio a small wave behind his head. “Amicitia. Good to finally meet you in person.”

 

Gladio finally seemed to manage to make himself blink. Very slowly. And then his gaze moved to directly meet Ignis’.

 

“Ignis, _what the f–_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Heeeeey. I have a Discord channel now. You guys should all come chat with me! 
> 
> [Join the fun!](https://discord.gg/qFjzbyF)


	38. The Distraction

It was physically impossible for someone to feel a greater amount of embarrassment than Ignis was feeling at the moment. Throwing himself over the railing of the outlook was beginning to seem like a perfectly reasonable action. Perhaps he could do that.

 

“For weeks, we have been worried sick about you, and you’ve been off doing _this?_ ” Gladio gestured.

 

Aranea arched an eyebrow, not even looking inconvenienced by Gladio’s presence. “It’s called a kiss, Muscle Top. I’m gonna assume that with your looks you’re familiar with the concept.”

 

Gladio made some sort of strangled noise of disbelief.

 

Ignis tried to extract himself from Aranea’s hold with as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn’t much. Six, his face felt hot. “You know bloody well that’s not why I left. This is a rather… recent and unexpected development.” 

 

Gladio’s hands went to his hips as he huffed, his expression seeming to be at war between irritation and… oh no.

 

“I…” Gladio cracked a grin before he managed to get it under control. “I’m trying to be angry here, but I’m actually pretty impressed. Didn’t realize you _had_ that kind of game, Iggy.”

 

“Oh, bloody hell…” Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

Aranea snickered. “Oh, he can be charming. Just as long as he’s not trying to be.” She strolled over to Gladio, offering him her hand. “Aranea, not that you don’t already know.”

 

Gladio shook the hand firmly before letting go. “Gladio. Yeah, I think we’ve both heard a lot.” He sent Ignis a look. “And _not_ heard about a lot of other things.”

 

Ignis sighed. “Where are Noct and Prompto?”

 

Gladio glanced over his shoulder. “Should be headed this way. They were nerding out over things last I checked. They probably went back to the hotel to grab the costumes they got for you two.”

 

“…They purchased us costumes?” Ignis said blankly.

 

Gladio rolled his eyes. “Something about us all needing a morale boost while we’re waiting on Cor to get back to us.”

 

“Huh.” Aranea shifted her stance, resting her hands on her hips. “Well, he’s not wrong. I’m not one for sitting around moping – just makes your judgement more compromised when the next crisis shows up.”

 

Ignis wondered if Noct had luckily guessed that about Aranea or whether he’d actually been able to judge it based on what he saw of her years ago. She truly wasn’t one to let her emotions overcome her, but he himself hadn’t been certain about how she would go about things with one of her closest friends actually dead. _He_ most definitely leaned on the side of taking things seriously. This didn’t seem at all appropriate given that he’d just dug a grave for a friend, but he couldn’t argue that sitting around mourning would help them find Loqi any more than enjoying the festival.

 

It wasn’t as though Noct was trying to be disrespectful. He’d lost just as much as Aranea. More, actually. They’d _all_ lost so much recently. Family, friends, home…

 

If Noct was trying to find some joy in all of this, where was the use in stopping him?

 

“ _Iggggggggyyyyyyyyyy!_ ”

 

Gladio rolled his eyes, not even flinching as Prompto tore past him, almost crashing into Ignis before he was able to skid to a stop. The bag he was carrying nearly smacked Ignis’ side, throwing Prompto’s balance off and making him teeter briefly before Ignis placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

 

“Okay, dude, I gotta know – are hugs okay? It wouldn’t, like, freak you out, right?”

 

Ignis chuckled. “I’ll suffer no ill effects–”

 

For someone who seemed so scrawny, Prompto actually had a decent amount of strength, and Ignis briefly worried for the safely of his spine as Prompto clung tightly around his torso.

 

“…I do, however, still need to provide my body with oxygen to live, Prompto.”

 

“Right!” Prompto released his death grip and latched onto Ignis’ left sleeve with both hands instead. “Sorry!” He bobbed on his toes as he zeroed in on Aranea. “Hiya, not-kidnapper! Nice to meet you! I mean, we kind of talked briefly, but last time I _saw_ you I was, like, trying to snipe you– not that I’d do that again, but–”

 

“How long you plan to keep going there, Shortcake?” Aranea raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

 

“…Um. About that long.” Prompto snapped his mouth shut with an audible click of his teeth.

 

She laughed loudly. “It’s good to meet you too, Blondie.” She glanced around. “So, where’s Pretty Boy?”

 

Gladio snorted. “So, that’s _not_ your nickname for _Iggy?_ ”

 

Ignis sighed. “Gladio, don’t start.”

 

“Oh, I have a whole other list for him,” Aranea said with a sly grin.

 

Ignis wondered if he could pry his sleeve from Prompto’s grip and heave himself over that ledge before anyone realized what he was up to and stopped him.

 

“Like what?” Prompto asked. “Hostagey?”

 

…He might have to settle for running his head into a wall. Repeatedly.

 

“…Yeah, that one hadn’t crossed my mind before.”

 

“I’d rather like to know the answer to her question, Prompto.” Ignis tried to steer the conversation away from himself. “Where is Noct?” He really needed to see Noct. He missed all of them, but Noct… he was _Noct._

 

Prompto pointed up.

 

Ignis frowned.

 

“Leap of Faith tower,” Prompto clarified.

 

Ah. Ignis squinted up at the tower. If he knew Noct, he was going to be in an Altaïr costume, but he didn’t see anyone with that costume in line.

 

“Further up,” Prompto directed.

 

And then Ignis had a small heart attack.

 

“What the devil is he doing up there?” The very top of the tower didn’t even have standing room – Noct was perched on maybe a foot’s length worth of metal far above where the actual leap was. “The leap’s safely precautions can’t have been tested for that height!”

 

Prompto snorted. “Bold of you to assume he’d use the safety precautions at all.”

 

Prompto’s words proved to be true as Noct gracefully jumped off _the wrong side of the tower_ and disappeared out of view behind the booths that were set between their group and the tower.

 

“Chill, dude, he’s done that, like, ten times already today,” Prompto managed to say before Ignis actually went into cardiac arrest. “C’mon!”

 

The four of them moved together, heading for the area where Noct had jumped.

 

…Had he actually jumped into that haystack wagon placed at the base of the tower as a prop?

 

Prompto walked over to the stack and kicked the wagon. “Dude! Iggy’s here!”

 

There was a whistle from behind them, and Ignis swiveled around to find Noct entering a deep flourishing bow. “Velcome, my brother of ze creed…” he said in a horrible imitation of what Ignis assumed was supposed to be Altaïr’s accent. Noct’s gaze flickered up from the ground, a smirk in his eyes and a smile on his lips as he peeked out from under his hood.

 

Ignis chuckled fondly. Terrible accent or not, it was so bloody good to see him again. “I take it you’re having fun?”

 

Noct stood up straight, crossing the distance between them to lay a hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “I am now.” He gave the shoulder a squeeze. “It’s good to have you back, Iggy.”

 

Ignis didn’t miss the way Noct was looking him over, trying to see how he was. Playing the role Ignis was supposed to play for him. Not that Ignis wasn’t doing the same. Six only knew how Noct’s health might have declined or what he’d been eating in Ignis’ absence. But… he looked well, actually. Like he’d been making an effort to take care of himself. They all did.

 

“Good to be back.” Dear Six was it good, even if it appeared they’d been doing fine without him. The Astrals had only known how much he wanted to see Aranea again, but Noct… he and the others were family. Home away from home–

 

Noct pulled him into a cross-armed hug. Ignis couldn’t help the upturn of his lips. Neither of them was the type to throw casual touches around like Prompto, but things had been beyond rough lately. Any and all of them could use what comforts they could find. 

 

Noct withdrew after a moment, giving Ignis a nod, turning his attention to Aranea as well. “Hey, Aranea.”

 

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” she greeted pleasantly. “Long time.”

 

Noct nodded again, looking uncertain for a moment. “About Wedge… Sorry. He seemed like a good guy. I liked him.”

 

Something flashed within Aranea’s eyes, but it was gone too fast for Ignis to figure out exactly what it had been. “You’ve had a lot of hardship in your life, kid, especially lately. Enjoy yourself tonight. Wedge hated bothering anyone – he wouldn’t have wanted to bring you down. If we have to wait, we might as well take a load off.”

 

Relief flooded Noct’s face as he nodded. “Right. Would you want to… I mean, we kind of got you two costumes in case you wanted to join us…”

 

Aranea smirked, though Ignis could tell it was more forced than normal. “You think I’d miss getting to see Advisor Stuffy in a costume?”

 

Ignis sighed. Really, now… Was embarrassing him her go-to for distracting everyone from her own pain? “Which costumes, dare I ask? Because it had better not be the one Gladio’s wearing.”

 

“Not gonna lie.” Gladio flexed his arm. “Kinda digging this.”

 

Prompto rolled his eyes. “Really? Would have thought it was showing too little skin for you, Big Guy.” He pulled the bag off of his shoulder and tossed it to Ignis.

 

“Come on, Iggy. Would I do that to you?” Noct asked, arms spread wide.

 

“Yes,” Ignis replied at the same time as Prompto and Gladio.

 

Noct huffed. “Well, I didn’t. I got you Arno’s robes.”

 

“Oh?” Now that he could deal with, certainly. Much more suited to him than most of the other robes he’d seen everyone wearing. He was a bit surprised Noct hadn’t thought to include some joke in what he’d picked out, though… It was the perfect opportunity.

 

“And I got Aranea Evie’s.”

 

…And there it was.

 

The look on Noct’s face told Ignis that Noct most definitely picked his favorite female assassin intentionally.

 

Six help him. Noct was trying to play wingman whether Ignis wanted him to or not. Ignis dreaded to think how Noct would react if Gladio mentioned what he’d seen.

 

…And this was what he was thinking about right now. Wedge deserved better. He may not have wanted his death to hold anyone in a terrible mood, but Ignis wasn’t comfortable forgetting him for the evening all the same.

 

As soon as they knew where Loqi was, this time of fragile joy would shatter. Perhaps after Loqi was dead Ignis could truly relax, but not a moment before. And as for Aranea… well, he knew her well enough to realize that cold rage would be making a reappearance very soon. The moment she had her target… Well, Ignis wasn’t sure if he wanted to see in full how Aranea had earned her deadly reputation, but he had a feeling he was going to all the same.

 

* * *

 

Ignis stepped down the stairs of the Leville, tugging at one of his sleeves. The fabric was strange, but despite the unusualness of it, he was still far more comfortable now that he’d had the luxury of a shower and been able to shed the clothes in which he’d been riding all day. The coat was nice, he had to admit. Far better than what Gladio was wearing, at any rate. 

 

He felt human again, and that was a plus to any situation, no matter how dour. If only Nyx and Biggs were being granted that sort of relief… They wouldn’t be, he knew full well. If they were even still alive…

 

Ignis tried to shake off that thought as he spotted Noct down below in the lobby.

 

“Hey.” Noctis straightened up from his more slouched position. He had been hunched over his phone while he sat in the center of the lobby, but now it appeared Ignis had his full attention.

 

“Evening,” Ignis returned, reaching the first level. “What are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the activities?”

 

Noctis waved him off. “Later is fine. Wanted to catch up with you before we headed out. Aranea gonna be long?”

 

“A bit, I imagine. She insisted that I take the first shower.” He stopped before Noct, gesturing for him to sit back down on the lobby’s large strange, circular bench before he took the space next to him for himself. His rear end still wasn’t entirely pleased with him, but at least this seat was plush and soft.

 

“Surprised you went with that,” Noct said teasingly.

 

Ignis adjusted his spectacles. “Yes, well… I believe she was hoping for a few moments alone. Me showering first ensured that I would leave first.”

 

Noctis winced. “Ouch. Sorry.”

 

Ignis shook his head. “It’s no slight to me. She merely needs some privacy after all that’s happened.”

 

“Oh… yeah.” Noct rubbed the back of his neck. “Can’t believe we thought this was all over, you know, back then. Feels just like one of my nightmares.” 

 

Ignis scowled. Generally when Noct referred to his nightmare it was more along the lines of “the nightmares I used to have.” He didn’t refer to them in the present tense.

 

“Noct… are you having nightmares again?”

 

“…Dammit.” Noct cringed, looking very much like he was mentally kicking himself.

 

So, he hadn’t intended on telling Ignis that detail. “Noct… how long?”

 

Noct sighed, dropping his hand. “Not long. Just the one the other night, but the first in a long time.”

 

As Ignis recalled, it was the first since a few months after the Affair. At least, if Noct hadn’t kept any others from him. 

 

“You know you could have talked to me–” Ignis stopped talking as he saw the look Noct was giving him.

 

Right. Noct wouldn’t have wanted to bother him with that.

 

Things were so much simpler when they were children and told each other everything.

 

And then things were so much simpler when it was just him taking care of Noct and Noct wasn’t trying to return the favor. Granted, that had been frustrating, but at least then he knew Noct wasn’t keeping things from him in an attempt to protect him.

 

And then things had been so much simpler once they’d moved past that, telling each other next to everything as they each battled their mental daemons. They’d been so close before he left.

 

Now… now Ignis felt as though there was a gap he needed to mend.

 

Ignis looked down, his gel-free hair falling to dust the skin just below the bridge of his nose. “I am sorry, Noct… It was unfair to leave you without even giving you any parting words after all we’ve been through.”

 

“ _Then why did you?_ ”

 

Noct’s tone grew so harsh so quickly that Ignis was genuinely startled into looking back up. He’d known Noct held _some_ resentment, but he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding _this_ much bitterness when they’d spoken on the phone. Likely due to worry. Now that Ignis was here and unharmed, Noct didn’t have that holding him back.

 

The hurt on his face might have been partially covered by anger, but it wasn’t hiding it completely. “Look, I get you trying to protect me – I even get you running off to take out Loqi with Aranea, but after everything we’ve been through together, you couldn’t even wait until I was awake to leave?”

 

Ignis swallowed. “Noct… if I had waited and looked all three of you in the eyes before my departure, I wouldn’t have been able to go through with it.”

 

Noct’s tense posture faded as quickly as it had come, leaving him once more with slumped shoulders. “…You could have left a note or something.”

 

Ignis hesitated.

 

Noct narrowed his eyes. “What?”

 

In for a gil… “I tried to.”

 

“…And?”

 

Ignis threaded his fingers through his bangs, removing them from his eyes. “My hands were shaking too badly at the time,” he admitted. “It kept ending up illegible.”

 

Noct was quiet for a moment, and then he crossed his arms with a huff. “You’re impossible to stay mad at, you know that?”

 

“My apologies for the inconvenience,” Ignis returned dryly.

 

Noct’s laugh came out as more of a choking sound. “Seriously, though… How you been? I know it hasn’t been long since the accident with Biggs, and you weren’t exactly at your best before then.”

 

Ignis chose his words carefully. He wasn’t _fine_. No one in their right mind would believe that. “I have been managing about as well as to be expected, I suppose. Aranea has helped a great deal with your absence.”

 

“Well, at least some good came of this, right?” Noct smirked.

 

Ignis gave him a look. “Please do not start.”

 

“Sorry.” Noct made a clear effort at attempting to smother his smirk. “Can’t blame me for being curious, though. I mean, you’ve spent weeks with the chick you admitted you had feelings for just before you met up with her. I was hoping seeing her again would brighten things up for you at least a little. But I guess the circumstances are just… crap.”

 

“That they are.” Ignis paused, debating with himself. Telling Noct of the developments between himself and Aranea might go a long way into bridging things, but he was still loath to talk about it. “We have… grown closer, despite those circumstances, and I am thankful for that.” Growing closer to people seemed to be the only good thing that had come out of any tragedy in his life.

 

“Define _closer_ – I mean, if you want to. Sorry, I know you don’t like to talk about–” 

 

“It appears there’s a mutual interest after all.”

 

Noct’s jaw hung open for a moment. “Oh…” Then he grinned. “Iggy, that’s great!”

 

“Do calm yourself,” Ignis jested lightly. “Just because there is an interest doesn’t mean we’re planning a spring wedding.”

 

“Come ooon.” Noctis nudged his arm. “At least let yourself be a little excited.”

 

Ignis attempted a smile, but it fell from his lips as quickly as it had come. “Would that I could, Noct… but I simply cannot given the circumstances. Even if we manage to bring back Ulric and Biggs with no harm to them, Aranea is likely to take Biggs and depart from us.”

 

Noct looked further put out as they lapsed into silence.

 

Noct cleared his throat a few moments later. “So…” He shuffled around, pulling out a flyer of some sort from his back pocket. “Um. They have this hunt going. You know, like a clue hunt? I thought maybe we could take a crack at it after Aranea was ready?”

 

Now that… that sounded like something they all could handle.


	39. The Distraction (2)

 

Hot damn. Pretty Boy had done good. Not on her costume. Well, actually, her costume was great. Pretty badass, she wasn’t gonna lie. But Specs’? That royal blue coat did wonders for accenting his lean muscle. She approved greatly.

 

Granted, it would have been better if he wasn’t awkwardly fidgeting in it as she could see he was as she approached him and the others in the hotel lobby.

 

“Dude, you look awesome! Come on, just one pose!” Blondie was bouncing on his toes with his camera in hand as Specs continued to sit and fidget.

 

“I hardly see why a pose is necessary, Prompto.”

 

“Hold up on that picture, kid.” Aranea didn’t miss the way Specs froze upon seeing her, glancing over her form hastily before forcing himself to lock onto her face only. …Aha. So, he was finding this whole thing more ideal than he was letting on.

 

…She also didn’t miss the way Pretty Boy was grinning at the whole thing, particularly Specs’ reaction to seeing her. Oh, now this could be fun. Not that she was really in the mood for fun. She was in the mood to drive a lance through Loqi’s throat for all he’d done. Actually, she’d been ready to do that before Wedge, but she couldn’t think of anything more violent than that at the moment.

 

But Specs… Six, Specs had been through far more than her. For his sake especially, she was going to try and enjoy tonight. Just one night for him to be with all of them without all the hell in his life ripping things apart for him.

 

She was going to distract him from all this crap. Or help Pretty Boy do so. That was her goal tonight. And if that brought them closer together… well, she was hardly going to complain. Their friendship-slash-relationship was the only good to come out of all this, wherever things went from here.

 

“What’s up?” Blondie asked.

 

Aranea smirked, walking over to Specs. He already looked suspicious. Ha. Good. He was picking things up very well. “Just one detail.” With that, she snagged Specs’ specs.

 

“Aranea!” he protested instantly, trying to snatch them back.

 

Well, he was distracted, all right. This was a good start. Now to keep it that way. Keep him distracted… and herself.

 

She evaded him, retreating up the stairs a few steps and holding his glasses out of his reach.

 

“Kindly return those!” he huffed, looking torn between getting close enough to reach them and trying to avoid stepping into her personal space.

 

“Nope. Mine now.” She lowered them only to perch them on her own nose. “They mess up your costume’s overall look anyway– geez, these are the weakest prescription I’ve ever seen. Why do you even wear these?” Really, there was barely any difference at all.

 

Specs had opened his mouth to retort when Shortcake’s camera clicked. He and the Prince looked at the small screen closely, not even bothering to hide snickers.

 

“Oh yeah, you’re right – this is much better!” Blondie grinned.

 

“ _Prompto,_ ” Specs said crossly.

 

“Seriously – she’s right.” Pretty Boy crossed his arms, looking at Specs. “Much better assassin without the specs, Specs.”

 

“And the hair this way,” Blondie added, giving a thumbs up.

 

“ _Ha,_ ” Aranea stressed.

 

Specs’ eyes flicked up slightly in a barely restrained eye roll. “I don’t recall ever asking your opinions about these matters.”

 

“Yeah, what’s with the hair change, anyway?” Pretty Boy leaned back in his seat, actually looking very in place with his own costume.

 

“Why does everyone _care?_ ” Specs shot back.

 

Pretty Boy’s eyebrows shot up and he looked between Aranea and Specs for a moment before he silently mouthed ‘ _ooooh._ ’

 

Specs sent him a glare. Pretty Boy held his hands up defensively. It might have been entertaining to see Blondie’s reaction to all that, but he was looking at his camera again and happened to miss the whole thing.

 

“Come on, Specs.” Aranea pushed up the glasses on her nose in imitation of him. “Just for the festival here so Blondie can get some good shots.” She had no ulterior motives here. Nope. None at all. No, really, she thought his glasses were charming, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy seeing his face in full. Despite the slight squint, he still looked less serious without them. It was refreshing, even if his burdens hadn’t actually lessened. Reminded her of how she pictured him during their messaging.

 

He sighed again. Deeply. “Very well. On the condition that I be the one to hold on to them.” He held his hand out.

 

Aranea smirked at him, tugging the glasses off and folding them before placing them in his palm.

 

There was a pause, and then she looked around. “So, where’s Muscle Top?”

 

Blondie groaned loud enough to earn him an odd look from the man at the hotel desk, who’d ignored them all up until now.

 

Pretty Boy patted him on the back. “Off breaking Prompto’s heart, probably.”

 

“Dare I ask?” Specs put his glasses into a case that he tucked into a pocket on the inside of his coat.

 

“Well, we’ve passed him flirting with like three–”

 

“Four,” Prompto corrected.

 

“– _four_ girls since we got here, and one of them was Prompto’s soulmate.” Pretty Boy held up his hands to make quotations on his last word.

 

“Hey, don’t you air quote my relationship!”

 

“ _What_ relationship?” Pretty Boy shot back.

 

Blondie made a wounded noise, holding a hand over his heart.

 

“I see.” Specs arched an eyebrow, descending the steps once more.

 

“And how long ago did you meet this girl?” Aranea wondered as she followed suit. Somehow she doubted that she was from Insomnia.

 

“…I mean. It’s been… at least a few weeks?” Blondie stuttered.

 

“Is this Cindy, or has he moved on?” Specs inquired, folding his arms and looking bemused.

 

“Still on her, surprisingly.”

 

“Well, at least he’s showing dedication should she become interested.”

 

“Hey! She at least likes me enough to take a picture with me! Look, I have it here!”

 

Pretty Boy spluttered disbelievingly. “ _I_ got you that picture!”

 

“Yeah, but she still didn’t mind being in it with me!”

 

If Aranea hadn’t known, she would have found it very hard to believe these were the kids that had killed one of the Empire’s best agents and landed a one-in-a-million sniper shot into another. “Boys. Didn’t we have a festival to be enjoying?”

 

“Right! We gotta hit all the stuff!” Blondie did a fist pump. “What did you guys wanna do–”

 

“Leap of Faith. That’s a must.” Something she definitely would have done anyway on her own had she stumbled upon this event alone.

 

“It’s awesome,” Pretty Boy assured. “I have a clue scavenger hunt that Iggy has to help me out with, but did you see anything else you wanted to do, Specs?”

 

“Well… the Crossing did spur my interest when we passed it…” Specs said casually.

 

Pretty Boy shoved himself to his feet. “Let’s hit it, then!”

 

* * *

 

 

It was actually difficult to be in a bad mood. That was something Aranea couldn’t believe she was thinking, but Specs’ dearest friends were so full of life and joy that she felt her spirits lift enough that she didn’t need to fake the cheerfulness of every word out of her mouth. Still, there were a few times… just small moments here and there with them… the simple familiarity with which they interacted… It hurt to see that so soon after Wedge.

 

Six, she missed him so much already. Biggs too, even if she had no proof he was dead. They’d split up so many times over the years, but never once had Aranea thought she wouldn’t see them again. Maybe she’d never had a real home, but she’d had them. Her boys. Her family. The closest thing she’d ever felt to Specs’ level of loyalty was her dedication to keeping them safe after that mess in Insomnia.

 

But what had happened had happened, and now half of her family was gone. And all she could do was wait and see if she’d even get the chance to save the rest of it.

 

Aranea wondered if Specs and the other boys would notice if she jumped off the Leap of Faith a million more times. The wind and the rush were a nice bit of stress relief.

 

“Oh! Eat it, Noct! Ha-haaa!” Blondie cheered, having thoroughly thrashed the Prince at a shooting game at one of the booths.

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Pretty Boy grumbled, but there was no actual malice in his tone. “How about we go see how good you are at the game over there?”

 

“I’m pretty in favor of watching you chase stuff around with balloon weapons again.” Muscle Top grinned, having rejoined them not long ago, much to the chagrin of the fifth woman he’d been chatting up. Aranea wondered if this was normal for him, or if it was some sort of overcompensating dominance thing since he was the group’s lady’s man and he’d caught her and Specs making out. Probably not the latter, but it was amusing to think about, especially since Specs was the most charming person in a normal conversation but a complete and total failure when it came to actual flirting.

 

And speaking of Specs… He was still staring at the people on the narrow rope bridges above them.

 

“How about the crossing?”

 

“Yeah, definitely!” Pretty Boy clapped Specs on the shoulder.

 

And so they went, enjoying everything they could that the ridiculously lavish event had to offer. Aranea regretted not going with Biggs and Wedge in the past few years. It really was a good time, even with her and Muscle Top having no clue what was going on.

 

Aranea was pretty sure she recognized a couple of the costumes around, and things clicked when she finally spotted the exact one she’d seen before. What was his name? Enzio? Ezzio? Something like that. She’d seen Biggs and Wedge playing one of the games of the series, at least.

 

Maybe she could use her lack of knowledge to further break the ice between her and the other boys.

 

“So, Pretty Boy, why don’t you tell me what all of this is about, anyway?”

 

Muscle Top had just enough time to groan.

 

And suddenly, the Prince was glowing, eagerly explaining away as quickly as Blondie normally talked. Geez. In the short amount of time they’d spent together before, she never would have guessed he could get so peppy. But, then again, she’d dug a bullet out of the kid’s arm when they’d first met, and he and Specs had been bickering, and there was the small matter of them being hostages at the time. But even Ignis’ texts hadn’t suggested this attitude.

 

Not that she minded. The Prince had lost his home, his family, and whatever friends he might have had other than these three. Not to mention Specs had run off not long after. That was way too much for someone his age, and then there was whatever trauma he’d suffered from a few years ago on top of that. And a partial disability. Yeah, if talking about video games made the kid happy, she’d let him keep talking.

 

Kid. Huh. Weird to think that Specs wasn’t actually that much older than him. Sometimes she outright forgot how young Specs really was.

 

And she’d thought she’d had it hard at their ages.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis shook his head fondly. He’d never realized just how long the Assassin’s Creed games were until Noct had started trying to explain them all to Aranea in great detail all at once.

 

Ignis chuckled. “Noct, as interesting as I’m sure Aranea is finding this all, might I recommend you breathe while relaying the story?”

 

Gladio snorted.

 

“No, no, let him keep going.” Aranea grinned. “I want to see how long he can go without passing out.”

 

Ignis was about to reply to that when there was a light tap on his shoulder from behind.

 

“Um, excuse me?”

 

Ignis clenched his fists reflexively as he swiveled around. The voice didn’t sound threatening. Actually, it was familiar for some reason, but Ignis was still wary.

 

…Though the five-foot woman in front of him that was sporting a dyed white-blond pixie cut didn’t exactly scream of being a threat.

 

She frowned at him, looking thoughtful. “Sorry, just… do I know you?”

 

Ignis could feel the eyes of the others on him, but could instantly and assuredly say he’d never seen the woman before him in his life. Yet… again, she seemed familiar _somehow._ “I don’t believe so, no…”

 

Her frown deepened. “Huh. Could have sworn I heard your voice before somewhere…”

 

So, it was his voice – not his face – she recognized. Curious, since he’d thought the same. “Ah, well, accents similar to mine are more common in Tenebrae. Have you been there and met someone who sounded similar, perhaps?”

 

“Oh, no, not a chance.” She chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d never even felt Insomnia until lately.”

 

“You’re from Insomnia?” Gladio cut in. “One of the refugees?”

 

“Um.” There was a subtle shift in her stance to one that was more defensive. Ignis couldn’t blame her. Their group was fairly intimidating, and she had reason to be on guard. “Yeah…”

 

From Insomnia. Now, that did improve the chances of them knowing each other, but he still was positive he would have remembered her face if they’d met. White hair wasn’t the most common– 

 

White hair.

 

Oh.

 

“Are you in medical school or recently graduated from it by any chance?”

 

Her eyes widened. “Yeah, actually! So, we _do_ know each other?”

 

Ignis chuckled. “ _DetectiveN,_ I presume?”

 

Realization clicked in her eyes. “Oh. Oh, gosh! _EbonyAddict,_ right?”

 

“Hm.” Ignis nodded.

 

Aranea snorted in laughter. “Are you serious? You have online friends other than Pretty Boy and Blondie?”

 

“Only a few,” Ignis muttered defensively.

 

“Oohhh, wait!” Prompto perked up, grinning at the girl excitedly. “Aren’t you Pelna’s girlfriend? Or was that just a couple years back? Sorry, don’t want to bring up bad memories if you guys called things off–”

 

“We’re engaged.”

 

Ignis blinked at that. Now that was a development he hadn’t heard about.

 

Her face fell, despite the happiness of her words. “I, um, haven’t heard from him since the attack. Have you…?” She drifted off.

 

“He’s safe,” Ignis reassured her instantly. “On a covert mission of high importance, but safe.”

 

The relief that flooded her face couldn’t have been clearer. “Oh, thank the Astrals… Wait, is he with Prince Noctis? Is he alive too?”

 

Noctis made a noise, having been in the back of the group and out of her direct line of sight with his hood up. “Nah, just haunting the Empire from the grave.”

 

“Oh, Six,” she yelped before lowering her voice to a whisper. “Your Majesty!”

 

Noctis grimaced. “Noct is fine.”

 

She licked her lips. “Well, I’m sure you guys are doing something important, then – don’t let me interrupt. I’m in room twenty-three at the Leville. Let me know if you hear from Pelna again, will you?”

 

“Certainly, we…” Ignis didn’t finish his sentence, as she had already scampered off.

 

“Something important… Right…” Gladio scoffed.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time they returned to their hotel, they were all quite ready to drop. Ignis had ended up having entirely more genuine fun than he’d anticipated, but the day had felt uneosly long with the chocobo ride here prior to all the festivity. Rest was definitely in order.

 

“So, do we need to rent another room?” Gladio asked as their group approached the Leville.

 

“We might. I almost wasn’t expecting you to come back with us, so I thought we might have room,” Noct said dryly.

 

Gladio blinked, looking taken aback. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

“Dude, really?” Prompto raised an eyebrow, not quite as hyperactive as usual. “Do you even know how many chicks we saw you flirting with tonight, or did you lose count too?”

 

Gladio actually looked insulted. “So you thought because I was flirting with a few women that I was gonna go shack up with one for the night and ditch you all when two of our comrades are captives?”

 

There was an awkward silence among them.

 

“…Yeah, guess not,” Noct muttered finally. “So, extra room?”

 

“Might want to ask someone _else_ if they want to shack up with someone,” Gladio grumbled.

 

“ _Gladio,_ ” Ignis hissed.

 

Aranea just snorted. “I can book myself a room, boys, thanks.”

 

Ignis had expected nothing else. Sharing a large tent while traveling was one thing, but now there was no need for them to share sleeping space. And even if they had been at that stage with their relationship, Ignis knew Aranea could use some more time alone. Solitude did wonders for the mind, no matter how fond one was of their companions.

 

And so the four of them split off to make for their room after Aranea shooed them away and headed to talk to the lobby worker.

 

The bed was far from the most comfortable that he’d ever been in, but it felt marvelous currently, and Ignis sank into the mattress blissfully. After camping and caravanning the last few weeks, he welcomed the relief for his back. Ignis felt himself slipping away almost instantly.

 

There was a chuckle that his drifting mind barely registered. “Night, Specs… Good to have you back.”

 

And then suddenly he was blinking and awake. The room was lighter, but it didn’t seem to be fully daylight. Very early morning, he’d guess. He felt more rested than before by far, but he hadn’t woken up naturally – he could feel that. So what had awoken him?

 

He received his answer when he glanced around the room and found Noct absent. Blast. He must have been very deeply asleep for Noct to have made it all the way out of the room before waking him up.

 

Ignis rose quietly, sliding on his glasses.

 

He knew. He already knew _exactly_ why Noct had left. He’d taken to getting some fresh air after his nightmares a couple of years ago. In Insomnia that had entailed him going out to his balcony and giving Ignis a call. Ignis suspected that Noct hadn’t wanted to wake him now, though.

 

Ignis shrugged on his normal clothing, not feeling the need to fully suit up in his costume as of yet. The festival would no doubt still be going outside, but less people would be celebrating at this hour. Hopefully the crowds would be small enough that Noct wouldn’t be too difficult to find.

 

He wasn’t. Actually, it was rather easy. Noct was usually hungry in the mornings as soon as he was out of bed, so all Ignis had to do was find the nearest place selling food, which turned out to be a vender in the marketplace. Noct was the only customer there, sitting at a small table with his chin propped on his fist while his elbow was sitting on the table’s edge.

 

“Morning,” Ignis greeted, moving to take the seat opposite to him.

 

Noct sighed, rolling his eyes. “I tried not to wake you up. I even warped off the balcony to avoid having to open and shut the door.”

 

Ignis chuckled. “Your warping makes noise, you know. And I got plenty of rest anyway, though I do appreciate your consideration.”

 

Noct made a face at him. “This is a horrible hour to be up at even if we’d gone to bed at a normal time.”

 

Ignis hummed. “Yes, well, not all of us have a magical Crystal tiring us throughout every day.” Ignis hated that Noct had to deal with that, and he regretted having lectured Noct about his laziness in the earlier years of their friendship. He should have seen it so much sooner than when Regis confided in him a couple of years back.

 

“I barely even used my magic yesterday.” Noct scowled.

 

“Oh? And how many times did you warp to the top of the Leap of Faith yesterday?”

 

Noct paused. “…Yeah, okay, I did do that. But like. There weren’t any battles or anything.”

 

“Nor were there any true ones back in Insomnia, but your training was enough to wear you out then.” Ignis started folding up the sleeves of his purple shirt. He couldn’t say he was overly fond of Lestallum’s constant heat.

 

Noct sighed again. “Yeah, yeah…”

 

A waiter dropped by then, leaving Noct with a plate of eggs and bacon and Ignis with a cup of coffee that made his mouth start watering by the first whiff.

 

He finished rolling up and buttoning his sleeves before pulling the coffee towards himself and inhaling deeply.

 

Noct smiled faintly. “Sorry it’s not Ebony.”

 

Ignis grunted. “Normally I might be more selective, but I’ve been without any sort of coffee since we left Insomnia. This will do nicely. Though I’m at a loss as to why you ordered it.” Noct had his own drink and he hated coffee. Why had he ordered this if he’d thought he’d be eating alone?

 

Noct shrugged. “Figured you wouldn’t be too long, even if I didn’t wake you up leaving. I told the dude to bring it after someone joined me so it wouldn’t get cold.”

 

Ever thoughtful. Noct had matured so much since his teenaged years. “My thanks.” Ignis took his first sip, relishing the flavor. No, it wasn’t Ebony, but it wasn’t terrible by any means.

 

“No sweat. Wasn’t sure if you’d want breakfast, though.” Noct picked up his fork, cutting into his eggs.

 

“How were the meals in my absence?” Ignis wondered.

 

“Not actually bad,” Noct said, sounding surprised himself. “Prompto took over. I mean, his food isn’t _yours,_ obviously, but it was good.”

 

Excellent. Ignis hadn’t been replaced, but sharing some of his tips with Prompto had been worthwhile after all. “Gladio didn’t manage to convince him to serve Cup Noodles every night, then?”

 

Noct made a noise. “He tried. Prompto did give in a couple times, but just when we’d had some really long days.”

 

Ignis chuckled again, letting a short period of silence pass before he spoke again. “So… do you care to discuss the nightmare that got you out of bed this early?”

 

“Oh, you know…” Noct stabbed at his eggs. “What used to be the usual.”

 

“ _…Which_ usual?”

 

Honestly, all of the usuals were terrifying. A terrifying snake daemon murdering him or his nanny… Tenebrae up in flames… Loqi having someone Noct cared about at knifepoint… Noct frozen as someone pressed the cold metal of a gun or a knife to his skin… Noct being surrounded in a loud place, but his world being totally silent…

 

“Loqi holding me at gunpoint while he stabbed you and left you to die…” Noct stared at his food.

 

Ah. That wasn’t terribly surprising. “Well, I assure you, I have no plans of leaving again any time soon.”

 

“Yeah, well, neither did my dad,” Noct said, still not looking up.

 

“Noct…” Ignis briefly touched Noct’s arm, getting him to look up before he signed his next words slowly, yet firmly.

 

_I’m here._

 

Noct smiled slightly.

 

And then someone nearby _screamed._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My word, guys! Fanart, fanfiction of my fanfiction, and now THIS? A LUVLY couple of people have started posting an audio reading of 49 Hours on youtube! Here’s the [link](https://youtu.be/yAXHpcN2TVA) if anyone wants to listen and/or subscribe to these fine peeps!
> 
> And don't forget you can come chat with me on [discord!](https://discord.gg/d4CmKy)


	40. The Empire

Ignis and Noct were on their feet instantly, and Noct was whipping his head around.

 

“Where was that from?” Noct asked, tilting his good ear up a bit.

 

“This way!” Ignis took off, knowing Noct would follow. The scream had come from the direction of Lestallum’s main street.

 

It wasn’t hard to identify the cause of the commotion. Given the lack of people at this hour, an MT stalking through the street was fairly obvious, as was the fact that what few civilians that were present   were fleeing in terror.

 

“–remain calm. You are free to go about your business. You will not be harmed as long as you comply–”

 

Ignis’ blood managed to freeze and boil at the same time. He’d know that voice anywhere, even when it was barely audible in the chaos.

 

So, they wouldn’t be needing Cor’s information to find Loqi after all. Ignis wasn’t certain if this was lucky or if he was cursed, but he _did_ know that they needed to retreat now and remain unseen if they were to launch a surprise attack on Loqi later– 

 

“Noct, wait!”

 

Too late did Ignis realize that Noct wouldn’t be able to pick out Loqi’s voice given his impediment. Too late did he warn him not to attack the MT. Noct was already warping at the machine, cutting it off from the civilians that were running from it.

 

Noct’s sword sank into the chest plate of the MT, the slash of metal on metal and the dying shriek of the MT dreadfully loud and impossible for anyone to ignore.

 

And their only cover was gone. The civilians had left, leaving the street next to deserted. There was a straight line of sight between Noct and Loqi as the Imperial snapped his head towards the dying MT.

 

“Where the hell did that thing come from–” Noct’s eyes widened as he summoned his sword back to hand. “ _Shit._ ”

 

Ignis estimated at least ten MTs behind Loqi that were close enough to be an immediate threat. That was an unfavorable amount, but…

 

They needn’t fight them all. If they could eliminate Loqi, they could then withdraw. This might be their chance.

 

“Iggy, we can take him!” Noct hissed, echoing Ignis’ thoughts.

 

They could. They truly could, if they were fast.

 

Ignis slid into place at Noct’s side, his daggers appearing in hand. “Oh, capital idea, Noct. Let us be quick!”

 

Loqi was already gesturing and barking off orders to his MTs, surprise still present in his too-wide eyes.

 

Noct charged the one in his way with no hesitation, this time a massive axe appearing in his hands that he brought down on the MT’s head before he whipped it around in midair and sent a shuriken sailing into his next target. Ignis followed right behind him, finishing off the second, stunned MT with a dagger to the red core at its center.

 

When he spotted Loqi again, the Imperial was no longer looking panicked. A jolt of dread ran through Ignis as the smug expression that had haunted his nightmares appeared on Loqi’s face. He lifted his right hand into the air, some sort of device there that looked suspiciously like the triggering mechanism for an explosive.

 

Noct warped again, and Ignis sprinted at his fastest pace, but they never stood a chance. All Loqi had to do was press down with one finger.

 

Nothing exploded, but a wave of… something washed over him, leaving Ignis feeling off somehow.

 

Noct reappeared too early from his warp, staggering as he tried to find his feet. He crashed to his knees instead, shock plain on his face. Forgetting his target up ahead, Ignis skidded to a halt in front of him, placing himself between Noct and the approaching MTs.

 

“Noct! What’s wrong?”

 

“I don’t know!” Noct shook his head, blinking. “Something with my magic!”

 

Ignis sent a dagger at the closest MT, trying to make sure–

 

The dagger bounced off the MT’s armor harmlessly.

 

“What the devil?” Ignis demanded.

 

Loqi smirked. “Let us see how you fare without your precious Crystal magic, Your Majesty!”

 

Bloody hell. They’d found a way to dampen Noct’s link with the Crystal.

 

Noct had just managed to stand again when Ignis drew back, snagging his sleeve and dragging him away from the incoming forces. “Noct, we must withdraw!” They’d surely be killed if they tried to fight against such odds head on.

 

“No complaints here!”

 

The MTs’ paces were quickening to a run, and Ignis and Noct broke into sprints of their own as they headed away from the main street.

 

“We need to get back to the Leville and get our costumes!” Noct tossed a nervous glance over his shoulder. “He’ll spot us a mile away like this!”

 

“I concur, but first we must lose these tagalongs!” They couldn’t lead them directly back to the Leville. That would only put the others in danger if their weapons were compromised as well.

 

“This way!” Noct took off down a specific alleyway… that was a dead end. But then he summoned his weapon and hurled it upwards to the rooftops, grabbing Ignis by the arm and yanking him into a sort of strange half-hug. The characteristic blue warp trail flashed around them, but they only lurched a few feet forwards instead of up.

 

“Dammit!” Noct let go of him and tried again, this time disappearing and reappearing in a normal fashion, his sword dug into the wall near the roof. “Iggy, that dumpster!”

 

Ignis gave him a stiff nod, regaining his full momentum as he vaulted onto the dumpster at the end of the alley and used it to propel himself upwards. Noct barely grabbed his hand, only just managing to help Ignis catch the edge of the roof. Ignis hauled himself up before offering his hand back down to Noct and helping him up as well.

 

“Go, go, go – the Crossing!” Noct gestured frantically as the MTs closed in below.

 

Ignis complied, thankful that they’d gotten the practice they had with the Crossing earlier. They swiftly tore across the ropes, taking another two turns on the rooftops before finally coming to a stop, both of them trying to catch their breath.

 

“Dammit…” Noct got out between gasps for air. “Dammit, dammit, dammit. We had him, Specs. He was right there. We _had_ him!”

 

“We seem to be making a habit of that,” Ignis said dryly, adjusting his glasses.

 

“What the hell is he doing here, anyway? He after us?” Noct rubbed the back of his neck, looking around them at the mess of a rooftop they’d ended up on.

 

“No… I doubt he knew we were here.” Ignis had seen Loqi’s surprise. He couldn’t have been looking for them. “You can still warp, I see?”

 

Noct frowned. “Sort of. It’s not as strong. Like I’m near Stasis or something.”

 

“Bloody hell…” This had all gone downhill rather quickly. “We must regroup with the others and decide a course of action quickly. Loqi will already be planning to take advantage of our weakened state.”

 

“Yeah… yeah, let’s get back to the Leville.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to skewer him–”

 

“Aranea–”

 

“Hang him upside-down in the fountain and drown him–”

 

“Aranea–”

 

“But first I’m going to dig out his eyes and make you cook them in something so I can feed them to him!”

 

“ _Aranea._ ” Ignis adjusted the lapels of his costume. How ironic that these were to be their actual method of avoiding detection now. “While I can’t say I am entirely opposed to all of those ideas, we need to first have a plan to defeat him. We are at a _significant_ disadvantage at the moment.”

 

“The key’s gonna be finding out what he’s really doing here,” Gladio said, leaning against the wall of their hotel room. “Empire had to send him here for some reason. We find out what that is and we’ll have a much better chance of being able to track him.”

 

“Agreed,” Ignis said, placing his glasses in their case and tucking the case into his inside coat pocket.

 

“But… he’s gonna be on the lookout for us now.” Prompto sat on the bed, chewing on his lip. “Even in costumes…”

 

Ignis hummed. “For certain ones of us… but perhaps not all. Gladio, you’re the one least likely for him to recognize. You might be able to get close.” What an odd sentence. Gladio was usually so imposing that people noticed him right away, but Loqi had a personal bone with all of them except Gladio. Plus… there were ways of making him stick out less.

 

Gladio frowned, and Ignis spared a moment to feel bad that he’d brought up what he knew was a touchy subject with him. “I dunno, Iggy. I may not have done anything to get to the top of his revenge list, but I’m still pretty recognizable. He’d definitely notice me lurking around.”

 

“Normally, I’d agree. But the festival makes things much easier on us.” Ignis folded his arms. “Not only are you in costume, but the festival will make crowds that you may blend in with. Plus, if we had someone Loqi didn’t know with you, that might help matters as well.”

 

Noct did a double take, looking to each member of their group. “Who of us does he not know?”

 

“Not one of us,” Ignis corrected. “Gladio has been trying to charm up the ladies since he got here. I think it’s only fair he finally succeeds in swaying one to following him around.”

 

Gladio blanched. “Iggy, are you insane? I’m not endangering a random civilian like that.”

 

“I never said she’d be random.”

 

“Uh, so… what?” Prompto had a comically confused look on his face. “We put up signs? _‘Heeey, girl, wanna go on a dangerous mission?’_ ”

 

“Of course not.” Ignis half reached up to his glasses before remembering he wasn’t wearing them. “No, I suspect we have someone who will volunteer should she hear of our needs.”

 

“Oh! Cindy!”

 

Ignis paused. “I suppose she might be willing as well, though I was actually referring to our resident Death Note fan.”

 

“What?” Aranea said blankly.

 

“Oh, right!” Noct slapped a hand on his leg. “Pelna’s fiancée.”

 

“Ooooh, okay. But Cindy would totally be willing to help us too,” Prompto said.

 

There was a knock on the door.

 

Instantly, all of them that had been seated were on their feet except Aranea, who rolled her eyes. “Boys… The Empire wouldn’t be knocking if they knew we were here.”

 

…That was a fair point. 

 

Gladio moved over to the door, yanking it open in one smooth motion.

 

…Speaking of Cindy.

 

“Oh, thank goodness that you boys are still here.”

 

Gladio moved aside, letting her into the increasingly crowded group.

 

“Take it ya’ll already know that the Empire’s here.”

 

“We’ve been made aware, yes.” Ignis stepped back a tad, allowing her more room.

 

“Well, they’re settin’ things up all around the city, but there’s mainly somethin’ goin’ on at the power plant. Holly said they’re tryna set a secret weapon of some sort up there.”

 

Aranea snapped her fingers. “That could be what’s jamming your power, kid.”

 

“Or worse – an actual weapon they plan to use soon,” Gladio noted. “Wouldn’t put blowing the whole city up past Loqi.”

 

“They’ve probably already got the Regalia…” Noct grumbled.

 

“We can retrieve her later,” Ignis dismissed. “The citizens of Lestallum and putting an end to Loqi come first.”

 

Noct shook his head. “Can’t argue with that.” 

 

“That Imperial took alla Holly’s key cards,” Cindy added.

 

“Then that’s also a priority,” Ignis said. “We’ll likely need them to dismantle whatever it is that they’re setting up within. Also, Cindy, we may need you for the dismantling process.”

 

“You got it, hun.” 

 

“Well, this is Loqi,” Aranea pointed out, “so I can’t say for certain that he’d follow procedure, but I doubt he’ll keep all of the cards on himself specifically.”

 

“Then we’ll have to track all of them down, too.” Gladio’s brow narrowed in frustration.

 

“And… let’s not forget that he may have Ulric and Biggs here as well,” Ignis added.

 

“So what’s our _first_ move?” Noct asked.

 

“We leave here. Loqi’s likely to place the Leville under guard before too long. I suggest we confirm with… _DetectiveN_ and then go from there.”

 

“Right.” Gladio’s voice was stiff. “Let’s hit it, then.”

 

Bloody hell. There was entirely too much that needed to be done, but at least they had a decent amount of people to get it done. They were going to have to split up.


	41. The Team

“Up.”

 

Nyx was jarred awake by a kick to his ribs, and he wasn’t quite aware enough to suppress the grunt of pain that left him. He didn’t even remember nodding off after they’d been forced into the Imperial ship, but, evidently, torture took its toll on the body’s energy.

 

Some people might have been relieved to be moved away from their cell and torture dungeon, but it honestly just made Nyx even more wary. Loqi had stopped mid torture session for whatever this was. That didn’t bode well.

 

He subtly tested the strength of the bonds around his hands as he was yanked to his feet. As he suspected, they unfortunately hadn’t magically loosened since he’d fallen asleep.

 

A bag was shoved over his head then, but Nyx could tell that he and the others were being taken out of the ship. There was pavement beneath his boots and an unpleasant, humid warmth in the air.

 

Ha. Nice try with the bag. He knew it was Lestallum anyway. Not that he knew enough about the city for that to really help him, but at least he knew what part of the world they were in.

 

Clarus and Biggs were being forced to walk along beside and behind him, and the dread further rose within him. It couldn’t be for any good reason that Loqi was bringing all three of them.

 

The pavement gave way to carpet of some sort, and then Nyx almost tripped as he was led up stairs. A fair amount of them. And then a door opened, and the heat of the outdoors hit him again.

 

Were they on a roof? Why a roof?

 

“Let me know as soon as the equipment is ready,” Loqi said.

 

Equipment. Great. Probably something else for him to torture them with. His throat and wrists were still raw from the last stuff. And Clarus… Six, Loqi hadn’t even had the decency to clean him up at all after branding him. That had to sting like a bitch. And as for Biggs… despite Loqi not actually having touched him yet, he was the one Nyx was the most worried about. Wedge’s death had been more than enough _mental_ torture for him.

 

The bag was suddenly yanked from Nyx’s head as he was kicked back to his knees, leaving him squinting and blinking in the brightness of the daylight.

 

Yeah, they were on a roof, all right. The question was… why? Torturing them on a roof where everyone could hear didn’t seem like the best of ideas. Unless he was trying to terrify the city into submission.

 

Trying not to move around too much, Nyx snuck a glance at both of his companions to check on their statuses. Clarus looked as well as to be expected – the slight tightness around his eyes was the only tell that he was in pain.

 

Biggs, though… he was still sitting nearly directly in front of Nyx and a few feet away with his shoulders slumped and his head down as he stared blankly at the part of the roof in front of his knees.

 

Nyx swallowed. This wasn’t normal grief – this was shutdown. Keeping someone alive was a lot harder when they didn’t care to be alive.

 

Nyx glanced over at Loqi and his goons, who were messing with some electronics. The MTs didn’t seem to be watching him either.

 

Nyx shuffled his way over to the other man, voice still raspy as he tried to speak. “Hey… Biggs. Come on. We still have a chance here. You with us?”

 

Biggs blinked, still seeming to stare at nothing. “Yeah… Yeah, mate, you can count on me.”

 

“Good…” Nyx was pretty sick of people dying around him, and he had no intentions of adding Biggs to the list.

* * *

 

 

As luck would have it, their group was able to exit the Leville just before half an army of MTs showed up. Ignis felt entirely exposed, walking through the street at a calm pace, but no one took any notice of them. Even with the Empire in town, people had resumed trying to enjoy the festival, and they were but other assassins in the crowd.

 

“So, what is it you need me to do?” DetectiveN asked quietly, warily glancing at each MT they happened to pass.

 

“You need only assist us in blending in. Namely, Gladio.” Ignis smoothly tugged his hood further down, missing the clarity of his spectacles. They would only make Loqi and his men more likely to spot him, though. “Once we locate Loqi, we need to retrieve the key cards to the plant. I wouldn’t put it past him to order his men to destroy everything in the event something should happen to him, and it would be far more difficult to take him at this stage away.”

 

“That won’t be enough to protect him,” Aranea growled.

 

“Indeed not,” Ignis agreed, weaving around another group of assassins that were crowded around a booth. “But we are at an extreme disadvantage at present. The Crystal jamming device takes priority if we are to stand a chance at all. Cindy, do what you can to stay in the area near the power plant. Once we’ve gained access, we’ll need to work fast or we’ll have the entirety of Loqi’s forces on us before the jammer is disabled.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll eat the hood I’m wearing if Loqi doesn’t have at least one of those cards on him,” Noct said, looking at his phone as they walked. “And he’s bound to be well guarded.”

 

“Right. Yeah,” Aranea said dryly. “If we have to steal the card from him, we might as well just put him out of our misery then.”

 

“Agreed. But only if we are granted the opportunity. We cannot afford to take extra risks at the moment.”  

 

“Oh, _hell_ yes.” Noct grinned at his phone. “Cor’s in the city.”

 

Bloody hell. Well, that certainly improved their chances. No wonder he’d been radio silent as of late. “Where is he?”

 

And then suddenly someone fell into step next to him. “Blending in. What madness is going on in this city?”

 

Prompto seemed to barely cut off the yelp that almost left his mouth. “Cor! Geez, you look badass.”

 

Cor spared his Connor costume a glance. “Seemed it wasn’t optional if I wanted to avoid attention, ironically.”

 

“We’re grateful for your assistance, Marshal.” Ignis only just dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Noct’s been keeping you updated, I believe.”

 

“Correct, and your plan was a firm one.” He spared DetectiveN a glance over his shoulder. “You may leave. Go somewhere safe.”

 

“Huh?” She blinked.

 

Ignis felt similarly confused. Was Cor saying he had a better plan for which she was not needed?

 

“Your offer of assistance was commendable, but no longer necessary.” With that, Cor turned his attention to Gladio as they rounded a corner and ended back on the main street. “Stealth is hardly your area of expertise, but I’m certain you would have fulfilled your task with all the efficiency as you normally do.”

 

“Thanks…” Gladio said dryly. “So, why the change if you like Iggy’s plan?”

 

Cor held up his left hand, showing them a handful of key cards. “Not a full change. Merely a revision.”

 

Ah. Ignis turned to face DetectiveN, bidding her a silent thank you and assuring her she could leave as she’d begun to trail further back from the rest of them. She gave him a nod and small wave as she stopped walking and let them move on without her.

 

“When the hell did you get those?” Aranea demanded.

 

“Shortly before joining you,” Cor said simply, putting the cards back in his pocket. He turned another corner, taking them back off the main street. “Unlike the rest of you, I’ve become quite used to not relying on magic by this point.”

 

Noct winced faintly. The _since your father’s death_ went unsaid. Noct recovered quickly, though. “How have you even been doing that? Our weapons bounced off those MTs with my magic only dampened.”

 

Cor grunted, glancing at Gladio. “My sword is from a particular source that allowed me to keep up with your attacks before, but its effects also seemed to be dulled by this jammer. These MTs are a grade or ten above the usual. I’ve been relying on stealth myself, but they do have select areas that your weapons should be able to penetrate even without magic.”

 

“Right.” Gladio looked thoughtful and rather irritated at the same time. “So, how many key cards are there?”

 

“There’s six total, accordin’ to Holly,” Cindy spoke up. Ignis had almost forgotten she was with them.

 

“I have five.” Cor stopped in the alleyway, bringing their group to a halt in the empty place. There were curves before and after them in the path, granting them some privacy. “You were correct – Loqi has the last one.”

 

“Cool,” Aranea said flatly. “Let’s kick his ass and take it if you know how to bring these things down.”

 

“No,” Cor said instantly. “It still requires precision. In an open fight, we’d be doomed.”

 

Ignis frowned. Well, it was time for him to ask the question that had been on his mind since he’d first met Aranea. “What of your abilities, Aranea? You’re capable of summoning your weapon to hand – is the jammer affecting that as well?” He’d always been curious how she managed to do that without the Crystal’s magic.

 

Aranea scowled. “It sure is, and it’s pissing me off. Loqi must have gotten enough details on me for that jammer to dampen my stuff as well.”

 

Well, that answered barely anything and was incredibly inconvenient, but he’d suspected as much. Otherwise, she’d likely have ditched them all and gone after Loqi herself by now. “Very well. Then we still must discern the best way of approaching Loqi.”

 

“Knowing where he is might help,” Noct noted. “Cindy, can you go ahead to the plant and keep an eye out? We’ll need you there hopefully soon anyway, and it’ll be one less place to look.”

 

“You got it, Your Highness.” She held up her phone as she started to jog off. “I’ll let ya know if I see anythin’!”

 

“Isn’t the power plant a little obvious, though?” Prompto bounced on his toes, looking anxious. “I mean, he’s gotta know we’d check the outside, and he’d need a suit to go in.”

 

“I agree.” Ignis folded his arms. “No matter how overconfident he appears, he’s unlikely to underestimate us to that degree after his time spent in prison. We may have no choice but to simply split up and look–”

 

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

 

Something that sounded like gunshots exploded in several places, and small pieces of metal struck the walls around them. Over Prompto’s yelping, Ignis was able to hear it – a hissing as multiple points around them began to spray steam and… spew water.

 

Those… those were not gunshots. The pipes that ran across the walls of most of northern Lestallum also lined this alleyway, and they had burst.

 

Ignis reflexively sucked in a breath, despite knowing he should do anything but.

 

No. No, no, no, he didn’t need this right now–

 

His chest locked up, denying the simple act of breathing normally as he tried in vain to tap his fingers in his usual rhythm.

 

“Oh, _shit,_ ” he heard Noct say distantly, as though he were underwater. “Iggy…”

 

Underwater. Oh, that thought was helping terribly.

 

No. No it was not at.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————

  

Noctis had his sword in hand as soon as the banging started. He thought for sure they were being shot at, especially when something small and metal tore through the tails of his robes and struck the wall behind him. But no… It was the pipes – something he realized as the air began to fill with the characteristic cloudiness of steam.

 

Geez. Talk about an almost heart attack.

 

“Everyone okay?” He spun around, making sure no one else had actually been hit by a screw or something. As long as they’d avoided that, no one was going to die from steam and… the water… that was spraying into the air…

 

Instantly, Noctis zeroed in on Ignis.

 

Dilated pupils, hands twitching in what Noct assumed was an attempt at his grounding exercise, halted breaths–

 

“Oh, _shit._ ” Not again. “Iggy…”

 

He wasn’t in full freak out mode yet, but he was damn well about to be if Noctis didn’t get him to calm down.

 

Noctis forced himself to approach slowly. “Iggy… Hey, focus on me… Just focus on me, okay?” He reached for Ignis’ hands, finding the pressures points there and squeezing them with a gentle strength. “Loqi’s not here right now.” …Never mind that he kind of was. He’d caused this, Noctis was sure. There was no way this was a coincidence.

 

Ignis’ breath was anything but normal. Quick bursts, in and out, but there was no consistent rhythm.

 

“Hey, what’s the recipe for that tart I like?” Noctis squeezed a little harder, trying to ignore everyone else’s eyes on his back.

 

Ignis choked out something that might have been a laugh. “Blood hell… if I know,” he said thickly.

 

“Right. I know. You’re still working on it. What were you gonna try next, huh?” Crap, he wasn’t reaching him enough like this, and he didn’t have anything on him. His phone would fry in this moisture if he tried to play music, and he didn’t have a book on him either.

 

And then Aranea strolled up behind him. “Let me try something – it worked last time,” she said gently.

 

Noctis was reluctant to back off, but if she really thought she could help, he’d let her try. The pressure points really didn’t work great when he was this far gone. He wasn’t sure what Aranea could possibly have up her sleeve, though–

 

Prompto squeaked from somewhere behind them as Aranea maneuvered herself in front of Ignis and started kissing him.

 

…Okay, yeah. Noctis could honestly say he hadn’t tried making out with Ignis as a distraction before.

 

Ignis went even more rigid for a moment, but after a few seconds the tension in his shoulders ebbed away. By the time she pulled away, Ignis’ breath had returned to a steady – albeit elevated – rate as he stared at Aranea, his cheeks heated.

 

Aranea left a hand on Ignis’ face, looking straight in to his eyes. “We need you, Specs. You with me?”

 

He nodded.

 

“You _distracted_ now?”

 

“…Considerably,” Ignis said, swiping at the water on his face and shaking his head. “But I’d rather get out of this alley as soon as possible.” His hands were still trembling.

 

“Come on.” Noctis gestured and started walking.    

 

“What just happened?” Prompto managed to _whisper_ and have it be _really_ obvious and loud.

 

Gladio snorted. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

Noctis couldn’t help noticing that Aranea’s hand didn’t leave Ignis’ as they left the alleyway behind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *plays Can You Feel The Love Tonight*


	42. The Farewell (3)

 

They found privacy once more at the tables of the restaurant Noctis had picked out earlier. It was way too peaceful in the back of the marketplace compared to the rest of the city. Like there wasn’t a festival going on or a maniac running around. It was nice. They weren’t planning on staying there long, though. Just enough time for Cor to draw them up some search routes so they weren’t stumbling around into each other while they were searching for Loqi and wasting time.

 

Meanwhile, Ignis was looking entirely sullen as he sat in the chair that was farthest from the center of the group. Aranea was near him, but they hadn’t actually spoken since they’d left the alleyway.

 

Noct wanted to go over and smack Ignis on the back of the head. And Prompto, while he was at it, since he kept giving them completely unsubtle, excited, and questioning looks and was definitely making things more awkward.

 

As for Gladio… well, he’d been sitting with a frown on his face for a while now.

 

Finally, it was him who broke the silence as Cor kept working.

 

“It was the rain that set you off that night, wasn’t it?” Gladio asked, his tone a tad softer than usual. “Your… _trigger_ is water?”

 

Ignis blinked, glancing over at Noctis. “You haven’t told them?”

 

Noctis shrugged. “Not a lot of detail. Didn’t… think it was really my place.”

 

“…My thanks.” Ignis bowed his head briefly. “Yes, Gladio… Certain contact with water is my… weakness. The one event I was vague upon in my report of the Tummelt Affair was at the tail end of my involvement. Just before the four of us ended up in the upstairs arcade, Loqi dragged me into the kitchen and tried to… extract information in the method he had most readily available given our surroundings.”

 

“He waterboarded you…” Gladio translated, his gaze filled with anger. Noct figured that he’d probably suspected as much, but it had never been spelled out to him until now.

 

“…Yes.” Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Despite the multiple bouts of trauma I experienced in those two days, that was the one that stuck with me.” He sighed. “Ulric and Biggs are likely experiencing worse as we speak…”

 

“Dude…” Prompto spoke up. “Don’t, like, try to downplay your stuff. Come on.”

 

“What were _you_ doing during this?”

 

It took Noctis a moment to realize Gladio was talking to Aranea. Not exactly the friendliest question, but he didn’t sound like he was accusing her.

 

Aranea didn’t look offended either. “Loqi had me keeping watch upstairs. Biggs… he tried to stop Loqi, and that’s when Loqi shot him. The gunshot was what pulled me downstairs. I had no idea Loqi had gone that nuts before then.”

 

“He’s even more nuts now,” Noctis grumbled.

 

“All the better we find him as soon as possible.” Cor pushed the paper he’d been drawing on to the center of the table. “Here are the routes. I suggest you memorize yours or take a picture of the full thing with your phone.” He glanced up at Prompto, who had _just_ pulled out his phone and was about to do exactly that.

 

Noctis scanned his quickly, trying to commit it to memory. He’d been running all over this city lately. He could get this done quick.

 

Jammer or not, Loqi had a whole list of people who were ready to end him right now, and this city wasn’t big enough for him to hide forever.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sir, we’re ready on all fronts,” Loqi’s lackey said after what felt like forever. Took him long enough. Nyx’s knees had been aching from the roof’s rough texture.

 

Loqi smirked leisurely. “Well, then. I suppose it’s only proper to send a true greeting after the gift I sent Scientia earlier.”

 

Scientia? Ignis was here? Dammit. Of course he was here. But had he found Loqi, or had Loqi found him? And was Highwind still with him? And what _gift_ had Loqi sent earlier?

 

Loqi grabbed the headset that his lackey offered, securing it and taking what sounded like a satisfied breath. “Citizens of Lestallum… by now I’m certain you’ve all noticed the Imperial presence in the city. Rest assured, me and my men are not here to harm you. Enjoy your festivities. Continue about your daily routines – so long they do not impede us, you are welcome to them.”

 

Right. Of course. That snide tone definitely made him sound peaceful.

 

“However, it has come to my attention there are some particular troublemakers hiding among you.” Loqi stared over the city before them, a hungry, predatory look in his eyes. “Scientia… it’s been a long while since our first meeting. I know the Prince is with you, of course. Is Highwind too? I’m sure she is. It’s high time the lot of us were reunited in the same city. Though… I do suppose it won’t be a full reunion. After all, Mr. Kincaid is unable to join us.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Son of a bitch,” Aranea hissed, glaring at the sky with pure rage in her eyes.

 

Noctis wasn’t going to lie, it was terrifying.

 

Ignis’ anger was less on the surface, but Noctis could see it simmering within him all the same.

 

There was no way to tell where the broadcast was coming from.

 

“ _A pity, but I’m sure we’ll manage,_ ” Loqi continued on. “ _I suppose I could have taken him along with the others, but I’ve had much time to think since our first encounters. I know now what it was that caused me to fail. I needed you. I couldn’t truly harm you because of that. You were safe, in a way. I didn’t need Mr. Kincaid._ ” He paused to laugh. “ _And to be quite frank, not only do I not need any of your friends here, but I have spares._ ”  

 

Spares? Plural? He only had two hostages, didn’t he? Wouldn’t that be one spare and one final one?

 

Ignis shot out of his chair, overturning it in the process. “Bloody hell, we need to move – now!”

 

Oh, he’d realized something. Something Loqi was up to.

 

“What? What is it?” Noctis asked.

 

“ _Spares_ ,” Ignis repeated. “This isn’t just an announcement – he’s going to execute one of them!”

 

“ _Move,_ ” Cor barked. “Find them!”

 

Noct whipped around, hurling his sword to the nearest rooftop. Oh, Six. He hoped Ignis was wrong, but he seriously doubted it.

 

“ _Allow me to set things in this perspective – I have three dear companions of yours._ ”

 

Three? Who the hell was the third?

 

Noctis twisted around, searching the buildings around him and the streets below before he warped to the next roof.

“ _None of them are terribly important to me. I would, however, rather like to get my mission completed. So, this is what I propose. Once the body of your dear Captain here hits the ground, I suggest you take a moment to decide if you’d like to spend your time and effort saving the other two, or rather you’d like to sacrifice him and come after me._ ”

 

…Oh, Six.

* * *

 

 

Nyx closed his eyes briefly. He’d known. As soon as he’d realized what Loqi was up to, he’d know it was going to be him. Loqi was pissed off at him for his lip the last few days. Loqi was right – he didn’t _need_ any of them. So why not kill the one giving him the most trouble?

 

Semi-public execution. Fitting, he supposed. Finishing what Drautos had started that night by the cliff. Loqi was already facing him, gun drawn from its holster.

 

At least it was a gun. He’d been impaled enough times. Maybe it would be quick this time, unlike the last two times he’d thought he’d reached his end.

 

_A sorry end for a sorry Captain,_ said the voice in his head that sounded like Drautos. _What did you truly think you could accomplish? Who did you protect in the end? Not your King. Not his Shield. You couldn’t even protect the mercenary. Do you think your family would be proud?_

Loqi raised the gun to point it at his head. “I’ve rather been looking forward to this. I could almost thank you for giving me an excuse, Scientia. The Captain has been quite the nuisance. I don’t imagine he’ll be missed by many, though. Last of his family, after all.”

And then Nyx caught Biggs’ gaze past Loqi. Caught sight of that determined edge. It was identical to the look he’d seen on Wedge’s face before he’d sacrificed himself for Biggs.

No. _No._ Hell no.

 

Nyx shook his head subtly. No, he was not letting someone else die on his watch. Not Biggs–

 

“ _Hey,_ ” Biggs snapped, loud enough to likely be picked up by the mike.

 

“Dammit, Biggs, don’t you dare!” Nyx didn’t even care about the way his voice was cracking on him.

 

“Sorry, mate, you aren’t _my_ Captain.” Biggs sent him a forced smile, and Nyx wanted to throw up. “I got somethin’ to say, Loqi, and you’re gonna bloody well listen.”

* * *

 

 

What the _hell_ was that dumbass _doing?_

 

Aranea fumed, turning the next corner in her route.

 

She liked Ulric. She really did. But between him and Biggs, there was no choice for her.

 

No. No reason to think that way. He was just stalling so neither of them – or whoever the other hostage was – had to die.

 

Except… she knew Biggs too well for that.

 

“ _Listen to you?_ ” Loqi repeated, amused. “ _Oh, very well, then – do say your piece. I’m certain Highwind will love some encouragement to come save you._ ”

 

“ _You want me to encourage her, mate? I can do that. I can do that real well. You know the first time we met, we almost killed each other?_ ”

 

Aranea remembered that day well. They’d had different employers after the same thing. They’d almost killed each other about nine times that day before Aranea learned that his and Wedge’s employer had planned on leaving no witnesses. She could have left them to the mercy of those assholes. Back then, she normally would have. But she didn’t, for some reason. She’d warned them.

 

“ _Well, things didn’t quite turn out that way. She recruited us instead, me and Wedge. Somethin’ about her – some sort of presence she ’ad. Made me wanna follow her. Aura of a natural leader, I guess._ ”

 

Aranea blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “Stop, you idiot,” she whispered under her breath, moving as fast as she possibly could. “Don’t… Don’t you say goodbye to me…”

 

There was a waver in his voice when he spoke again. “ _I’ve never regretted following her. Not once. Her kind of leadership is the kind that inspires. And you… you bastard… will never ’ave that. You… with all your threats and your blackmail… You could never even understand that._ ”

 

“Dammit, Biggs, where the hell are you!”

 

“ _Lady A… I… Live well, Aranea. Live well, my lady_.”

 

“ _I’ve got them!_ ” _The Prince’s voice crackled to life in her ear. “The Leville! They’re on the roof of the Leville–_ ”

* * *

 

 

The tears that ran down Biggs’ face trailed through the grime there, making them obvious as he somehow kept his voice steady through his last words.

 

And soon as those last words were out of his mouth, he charged at Loqi, hands miraculously free of their bindings and outstretched–

 

He didn’t even make it halfway across the gap between them before Loqi’s men emptied at least five shots into him.

 

He was dead before he hit the ground, a small, jagged rock falling from his right hand. He’d fallen on his front, his once white coat that he’d favored so much stained with dirt and dust and now slowly turning dark red.

 

Though the gunshots had echoed out, Nyx’s ears were still ringing.

 

Loqi stepped over to the body. “Well… it appears your Captain is safe for the moment after all, Your Highness. Let’s see how much you truly value him and your father’s Shield.” He signaled to his men, and Nyx was being dragged away again, separated from Biggs’ body and even from Clarus.

 

_Failure,_ Drautos’ voice whispered.  


	43. The Advance

 

It couldn’t have taken long to get to the Leville, but time in a crisis always seemed to feel as though it passed strangely. Too slow around the individual while everything else moved too quickly to hold onto – to stop.

 

Gladio’s sprint to the Leville wasn’t long. He was the next closest person to it other than Noct. But it was still _too_ long. The gunshots had come in the middle of Noct shouting out the location.

 

Gladio already knew Loqi would be long gone when he reached the roof – Loqi wasn’t stupid enough to stay put after all that noise – but he threw everything he had into running all the same. Maybe he could catch something – a glimpse of a goon or an MT. Some sort of trail to follow.

 

His boots struck the wet ground of the alley he was passing through, the echoes and splashing drowning out Loqi’s last words as he continued on briefly after the shots had sounded off.

 

There were no signs outside the Leville, and Gladio growled in frustration, rushing inside and slamming through the door that led to the roof.

 

The roof itself was less empty, but no more useful.

 

Loqi had left Biggs’ body there like a discarded piece of trash. _Bastard._

The door slammed open again behind him, and Gladio recognized the footfalls as the softer ones belonging to Aranea. Gladio swallowed, stepping aside to allow her past him. Cor appeared from the stairwell then, too, and he took up a similar stance to Gladio beside him.

 

Aranea approached the body, slowly sinking to her knees and steepling her fingers together as she pressed her pointer fingers to her mouth. Her expression was strangely blank despite the moisture in her eyes. She didn’t even blink.

 

The door to the roof was forced open again, this time by Ignis and Prompto, and Ignis instantly locked on to Aranea. Cor gestured at Prompto to move over by him, and Prompto wordlessly complied.

 

Ignis approached Aranea the same way she had Biggs – slow but steady, as though someone had forced extra weight onto his legs. He settled a hand on her shoulder, leaving it there for a moment before he knelt down next to her. “I am so sorry…”

 

She turned into his touch, letting her forehead rest against his chest as she squeezed her eyes shut.

 

The characteristic sound of a warp reached Gladio’s ears as Noct flashed into place. He froze as soon as he’d landed, eyes darting from Gladio to the pair and then back again.

 

…Why was Noct focusing on him so much? He wasn’t the one who’d just lost a friend. He hadn’t known Biggs at all, though it was clear to see he was a decent guy. He’d just sacrificed himself for Nyx, and apparently gotten shot due to helping Ignis before. He didn’t deserve to be put down like a rabid dog, that was for damn sure.

 

“Tell me you saw where the bastard went,” Aranea growled, pulling away from Ignis suddenly and ’cause him to rise to his feet along with her.

 

Noct opened his mouth, then closed it, and then opened it again. Still, he was looking between her and Gladio. “I… He split everyone up. Nyx was dragged out first, so I followed him. They’ve got him at the Leap of Faith tower.” Noct shook his head. “I-I’m sorry, Gladio, I don’t know where…”

 

Gladio scowled. Something here wasn’t adding up. “What are you apologizing to me for?” And it was then he realized that Cor and Prompto and Ignis were all also staring at him with that weird, apprehensive, and apologetic way. “ _What?_ ”

 

And now they looked confused.

 

“Gladio…” Ignis said quietly, still hovering close to Aranea. “Did you not hear the last of what Loqi said?”

 

Okay, clearly he was missing something. “No. Couldn’t from where I was. Why?”

 

“Dude…” Prompto sounded mildly horrified.

 

He looked to each of them, not failing to notice the way Cor’s mouth was in a thin line and his hand was tight on his sword. He was affected by whatever this was, that was for sure.

 

“ _What is it?_ ” Gladio snapped.

 

“It’s your dad, Gladio.” Noct locked eyes with him. “Loqi has him too.”

 

What.

 

The words registered in his ears, but not with his mind.

 

His fath– his… this didn’t make sense. His father had died protecting the King. He wouldn’t have let things go any other way.

 

Gladio shook his head. “…What? No… that’s not… that’s not possible.”

 

Noct kept his gaze completely firm. “I saw him, Gladio. On the roof beside Nyx. I don’t know how, but it’s true.”

 

Gladio didn’t even know how to name what he was feeling. It was too much – too many emotions threatening to overcome him all at once. Relief, confusion, dread, confusion, rage, _confusion…_

 

How? _Why?_

 

He’d never assumed… The thought had never even crossed his mind that his father had survived the Citadel–

 

His father. Had been in Loqi’s hands. Since the Citadel. Suffering. For _weeks._

_His father was alive._

 

“What were they doing with Nyx?” Cor asked, getting back to the mission at hand.

 

Right. Shield. Focus. Noctis first, above all else. That was what his father had taught him.

 

Noct shook his head. “Not sure. They were chasing people away from the Leap.”

 

“A huge, obvious display like the Leap?” Aranea crossed her arms, looking like she was fuming as much as Gladio felt. “That’s another of Loqi’s traps.”

 

“Of course it is – you heard him.” Ignis looked as though he was trying to push his glasses up before realizing they weren’t there. “Nothing about this alludes to subtly. He wants us to choose. He’ll likely put Clarus somewhere obvious as well. He wants us to attempt a rescue while he finishes his mission and escapes.”

 

Noct’s phone rang, and he scrambled to answer it, answering in a hushed tone.

 

“Not this time,” Aranea hissed. “What do we need to do – save two people and take out one. By my count, that’s three teams. We’ve got enough people for that, and he likely hasn’t realized he’s got the only key card he has left yet. He doesn’t think we can do it all at once. I think we can.”

 

“I concur.” Ignis nodded. “Loqi has no reason to realize that the Marshal is with us. Teams of two for each task could work well.”

 

Gladio agreed too. “So goes after who?” Six, did he want to tear the whole city apart with his bare hands and free his father, but his place was with Noct. He wasn’t letting him out of his–

 

“Loqi’s _mine,_ ” Aranea said.

 

No one argued.

 

“I’ll take Clarus,” Noct said suddenly, flipping his phone closed. “Cindy says he’s in the road that leads to the power plan.”

 

Gladio shot him a look of surprise. Noct’s warping might have been more useful at the Leap. Also, in the road? What the hell did Loqi have planned for the middle of the road?

 

Noct crossed his arms. “Look, we’ve known each other a long time. You wanna go after your dad, but I know you’re not gonna let me out of your sight right now. So, we both go. Problem solved.”

 

Gladio couldn’t help but feel touched and a little bit proud at the same time. “Gotcha.”

 

“Prompto, you and I will rescue Nyx,” Cor stated, leaving little more room for argument than Aranea had as he turned to her and Ignis. “You two will have the most difficult and dangerous task.”

 

Aranea straight up rolled her eyes. “No offense, Marshal, but do I look like I give a shit?”

 

“This is nothing to dismiss,” Cor fired back, but still kept his tone civil. “Not only will you have to face Loqi without your usual strengths, but you need to retrieve the key card from him and escort a civilian mechanic inside to disable the jammer.”

 

“I might also add that give Loqi’s past…” Ignis paused, looking to each of them for a moment. “I strongly suspect that once we begin any attempt, the hostages will both be killed. We must coordinate and launch those two strikes simultaneously.”

 

Dammit. He was right.

 

Gladio crossed his arms. “Then we best start getting into position to figure that out.”

 

“Right,” Noct said firmly. “Let’s move out.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea was right.

 

Prompto forced himself to not fidget as he hung in the middle of the crowd that was staring at the Leap from a reasonable distance. The platform that people had been jumping off of during the festival had been commandeered. The safety stuff below was gone, and Nyx was standing on the edge of the Leap, _gagged_ as an MT held his left arm with one hand while it pressed a sword to his neck with the other. There were also two MTs guarding the base of the tower.

 

There was a zero percent chance that this wasn’t a trap.

 

Cor weaved through the whispering crowd, rejoining Prompto and giving him a firm look. “This will take precision.”

 

Oh, boy. Why did he feel like he’d been here before? “You want me to take the shot.”

 

Cor nodded. “There is a very small target zone for what will actually kill one of them with the current state of your weapons, but I trust you can make it.”

 

“And if I miss?”

 

“You won’t,” Cor said simply.

 

“But _if_ I do?”

 

Cor was silent for a moment. “Then the MT will likely kill him instantly.”

 

So… yeah, pretty much like last time. No pressure there at all. Prompto licked his lips. “You didn’t, like, happen to bring a sniper rifle with you, did you?”

 

Cor shook his head. “You’ll only have what you’ve been using.”

 

“Right. Great.”

 

* * *

 

 

“…You okay, hun?” Cindy asked Gladio quietly as they stared out at the scene before them from the extremely low roof they were on.

 

The look on Gladio’s face was darker with rage than Noct had ever seen before. He’d made Gladio mad in the past – they’d had a thousand fights where Gladio raised his voice, but this? This was actually unsettling.

 

Not that Noct blamed him one bit. If this had been his father…

 

Clarus had been thrown in the middle of some sort of mock gladiator ring of MTs, a rusty sword his only means of defense he’d been given as one MT stood in the ring with him and tried to kill him. Clarus was barely standing, his grip on the sword shaky.

 

He looked horrible. Pale, thin, exhausted. Determined too, but that alone wasn’t going to cut it. They needed to act soon.

 

“Fine,” Gladio said rawly. He tilted his head. “Iggy, Cor – status?”

 

“ _We’re in position now,_ ” Cor returned after a moment.

 

“ _There’s still no sign of Loqi on our end,_ ” Ignis said. “ _I recommend you all proceed, so long as you do so simultaneously. I suspect an attack at both points will lull Loqi into a false sense of security. He’ll believe us to be occupied and move to finish his work in the city. That was the point of these setups._ ”

 

“Copy that,” Noct said. He looked to Gladio. “You ready for this?”

 

Gladio narrowed his eyes, watching his father barely evade an MT’s sword. “Damn right I am.”

* * *

 

 

“Are you ready?” Ignis asked softly. Aranea stood to his left, scouring the streets below them with a hungry gaze.

 

She glanced at him. “Are you?”

 

Ignis took a deep breath. No. And he never would be. But he _was_ ready for this all to be over. “As much as I can be.”

 

“He’s not getting away this time,” Aranea said, her voice carrying a darker edge. “I’m going to kill the bastard, whatever it takes.”

 

“Hm,” Ignis agreed. It was high time this all came to a close. But something was still nagging at him. “And when it does? What then?”

 

She was silent for a moment.

 

_Stay,_ he wanted to say. Where could she possibly go otherwise? Back to being a mercenary? Without Biggs and Wedge? _Stay with us._

“ _All confirmed to advance?_ ” Cor’s voice broke his train of thought.

 

“ _Ready,_ ” Noct said.

 

“Affirmative,” Ignis replied.

 

“ _Ready,_ ” Prompto said.

 

“ _Commence in three… two… one… Begin!_ ”

 

“Godspeed,” Ignis whispered, bending his knees and preparing to spring.

 

 


	44. The Showdown

 

One breath…

 

It was different this time. Last time he’d had Cor and Nyx right beside him, not one of them halfway across the street and the other almost right where he was supposed to fire. But last time had been his first time in a crisis. He’d had to resist wiping the sweat from his brow – had to resist the nerves that wanted to make his hands tremor.

 

“ _All confirmed to advance?_ ”

 

“ _Ready._ ”

 

Two breaths…

 

There was no tremor in Prompto’s hands now. No sweat threatening to drip in his eyes. Nyx had taken personal time to train him for crap like this. He wasn’t gonna let him down now. Not when Nyx was standing deathly still, the skin of his neck already shedding small droplets of blood from accidental nicks from the sword trapping him there.

 

“ _Affirmative._ ”

 

Three breaths…

 

Steady, steady… No room for error. Cor could take out the MT below. All he needed to do was focus on the one above. Nyx’s life was down to him making this shot. He could do it. Still, he didn’t like it. This seemed too easy, even if it was supposed to just be a distraction.

 

“Ready,” Prompto said evenly, using the side of one of the booths to hold his gun still. Just a little more pressure.

 

Four breaths…

 

“ _Commence in three… two… one… Begin!_ ”

 

He pulled the trigger, praying that he’d judged everything correctly.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio vaulted over the edge of the roof the moment Cor’s last word reached their ears, rolling as he hit the ground before summoning his sword to take out the first MT in the circle. Noctis knew that he’d rather have gone straight for his father, but landing in the middle of that horde was pretty much suicide.

 

For Gladio, that was. Noctis, on the other hand, had a way back out.

 

He hurled his lance, hitting the exact point in the MT’s back that Cor had told him was a weak spot. The resistance was so much stronger than when his magic was at full strength, the metal of the MT scrapping against that of his lance’s blade until he finally forced it all the way through. The MT’s death shriek was loud enough to grate on even his hearing, but regardless, he’d succeeded in taking out at least one of MTs around them. Success. For now.

 

The lance vanished from his hand as he dodged around the falling dead hunk of metal and headed for the middle of the circle. “Clarus!”

 

Clarus’ stance was so low he was almost on his knees, but somehow he was still holding onto that horrible rusty sword. “You shouldn’t be–”

 

“Oh, I don’t even wanna hear it!” Noctis snapped. Way, way too many times had he had to sit through that lecture, and it got more annoying every time. “Just get down!”

 

_Getting down_ was not hard for Clarus right then – he pretty much just had to _stop_ fighting like hell to stay upright. He was on the ground before Noctis reached him, dropping as well.

 

“Gladio, now!” Noctis twisted to look over his shoulder, summoning his shield to cover as much of him and Clarus as possible.

 

Gladio may have been the _tough guy_ of their group, but he could be a hell of a drama queen and have flair if he wanted to. The MT he had attacked wasn’t dead, but it had a hole through it from where Gladio had stabbed it. And so Gladio… _sort of_ went with the plan – blocking the MT’s heavy strike with his sword before dismissing his sword and jamming one of their strongest magical pods into the hole he’d created before re-summoning his sword and using it to shove the MT into the next nearest one of the circle. He fell back, summoning his own shield as the pod exploded, painting their surroundings white with ice as Noctis ducked his head under the shield’s cover.

 

The spell was a fraction as powerful as it normally would have been – which was good, actually, because the full thing probably would have killed all of them – but it did the job it was meant to.

 

Noct shivered, lowering the shield enough to see the results of their efforts.

 

…Dear Six, were those results a terrifying sight.

 

The MTs near Gladio were frozen solid, even their glowing chests darkened as they stood, stuck upright. That was an eerie enough scene, but the ones that were further away were so much worse. The light from their chests blared through the icy haze, and they twitched, slowly breaking themselves free in short motions.

 

They were coming. It wouldn’t take them long.

 

“Gotta move!” Noctis dismissed his shield, shoving himself to his feet and grabbing one of Clarus’ arms to haul him up too. He half-dragged Clarus towards the opening Gladio had created.

 

And then Gladio appeared on his father’s other side, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to normal as he took most of Clarus’ weight. “I got him!”

 

Trusting Gladio at his word, Noctis pulled away, a second magical pod appearing in his hand as he whipped around to face the remaining MTs that were advancing on them.

 

* * *

 

 

Even with the air of horror that Loqi’s announcement had brought earlier, the gunshot was startlingly loud in contrast to the happy festival music that was still playing. Without a scope, Prompto couldn’t tell at first where his shot had hit. There was one terrifying moment where he was almost sure he’d missed – Nyx jerked, along with Prompto’s heart – but then Nyx was still standing while the MT let out a dying shriek.

 

The MT fell to its knees, starting to dissolve as Nyx wobbled precariously on the edge of the platform.

 

Cor was already at work below, his surprise attack having cleanly taken out the first MT. But there was still another one, facing off against the Marshal now.

 

Prompto had no doubt that Cor could handle one MT, no matter the circumstances, but he sprinted towards him all the same.

 

And then he heard Nyx’s muffled yelling through his gag. His _warning._

 

Prompto snapped his head back up, close enough now to see the rope that was looped around Nyx’s neck while the other end was tied to… Oh, crap. The other end was tied to the MT, the remnants of which were sliding off the edge of the platform.

 

That was going to break Nyx’s neck if it– 

 

The MT fell off, the rope starting to unravel as it was pulled by the plummeting, lifeless metal body.

 

“Nyx!” Prompto threw everything he had into running, the knife Nyx had given him barely six months ago appearing in his hand before he hurled it in desperation.

 

Prompto sucked in a breath.

 

Having his main weapon as a gun, watching the knife fly was like watching in slow motion, each rotation taking entirely too long as the slack of rope ran out–

 

The blade sliced cleanly through the rope, burying itself in the Leap’s wooden supports as the MT crashed harmlessly to the ground and continued to dissolve.

 

But Nyx’s hands were still tied behind him, and he couldn’t regain his balance.

 

Oh, no… There was nothing around that could cushion his fall– 

 

A horrible screeching that was completely different from that of the MTs grated on Prompto’s ears, and he looked back to the street just in time to see Cor shoving one of the decorative wagons of hay towards the bottom of the Leap.

 

…Would that work in real life?

 

Gah, it was the only chance they had – the only chance Nyx had. Prompto rushed to Cor, yanking the cart from his end and getting it into place just as Nyx finally lost the battle with gravity.

 

Prompto let go of the cart, falling back onto his rear and his hood flopping into his face as Nyx came plummeting down.

 

Prompto unfortunately was able to tell that the _crunch_ that reached his ears was not just the cart, but as least the murder scream afterwards told him Nyx wasn’t dead. Yet. Prompto yanked his hood back so he could see again.

 

Cor climbed up on the side of the wagon. “Alive, I take it, Captain?”

 

Nyx groaned in response before Cor reached in and presumably removed Nyx’s gag.

 

“…My arm is broken,” Nyx wheezed. “And so are some ribs…”

 

“But you’re, like, not dying, right?” Prompto grabbed the edge of the wagon and hoisted himself up to see inside.

 

“Not currently…” Nyx looked up at them, blinking sluggishly. “Uh… nice outfits.” He blinked again, settling his gaze on Cor. “Didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing, sir. Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

 

Prompto could have sworn Cor rolled his eyes as he reached down and started to drag Nyx out of the wagon. “I have no idea. Come on. I heard an ice spell a few moments ago. Noctis and Gladio may need assistance–”

 

Prompto hadn’t heard the first spell go off, but it was hard to miss the second one as lightning cracked and crashed in the distance.

 

“Are those even gonna work with the jammer?” Prompto wondered, hovering a hand close to Nyx in case he needed some extra support.

 

“I supposed we’ll find out.” Cor helped Nyx fully out of the wagon, making sure he was stable on the concrete before letting go of his arm. “Can you walk, Nyx?”

 

Nyx pressed his non-broken arm to his side, nodding. “Yeah… Yeah, I can.”

 

“Then we move. Prompto, give him a potion,” Cor ordered, beginning to do just that as he pressed a hand to his ear. “Ignis, Highwind – what’s your status?”

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis clenched his fists, refusing to give in to the urge of moving towards either the explosions of magic or the gunshot from the other direction. They would all be fine.

 

Only a few moments had passed after the explosion of magic when Aranea _hissed._ Actually full-on _hissed_ before spitting, “There he is.”

 

And she was right. Loqi was hurriedly making for the power plant from one of the alleys, a smirk on his face that Ignis could see plain as day even from as far away as they were. His two human guards jogged to keep up with him.

 

Human. Interesting choice. Likely due to MTs being loud and less agile. Loqi was trying to move quickly and quietly while his distractions played out. He was counting on them being stretched thin. Counting on them being weak.

 

Oh, how wrong he was going to find he was.

 

Ignis and Aranea moved together, wordlessly taking off after their target. Here it was. Their chance, finally.

 

Ignis summoned his daggers, narrowing his eyes at the guards. He knew Aranea would go straight for Loqi, and it was up to him to watch her back while she did so.

 

She leaped from the top of the roof, twisting in her unique, graceful way.

 

But Loqi also twisted, just barely enough to not be impaled, but it _was_ enough.

 

One of Ignis’ daggers struck true, landing in the neck of one of the guards. The other threw up an arm in time to deflect the knife with a metal gauntlet.

 

Blast. There went their element of surprise, if they’d ever truly had it. Loqi was at least intelligent enough not to think his distraction was foolproof. He’d been keeping an eye out for them, and it had paid off.

 

But it would not be enough.

 

Ignis descended from the roof, perhaps not as cleanly as Aranea, but well enough that he landed firmly on his feet before the second guard.

 

“Good day,” Ignis greeted, his tone not at all matching his words.

 

It appeared Loqi was beyond his normal taunting mood at the moment, because he didn’t try to stall or sneer at them – he automatically pulled his gun, firing off a shot that Aranea had to jump back to avoid. Then he bolted, firing a few more wild shots over his shoulder to stall them as he ran.

 

…One of which hit his second guard directly in the stomach.

 

Ignis nearly rolled his eyes as he and Aranea gave chase. It was almost embarrassing how much their lives had been torn apart by someone with this degree of idiocy. Or perhaps it wasn’t idiocy – perhaps it was mere disregard for anyone that wasn’t himself.

 

Loqi pulled something from his pocket with his free hand as he ran.

 

The key card! He was trying to flee to the plant. He still didn’t know that his MTs with the other cards had fallen.

 

“Aranea – take to the roofs! You can cut him off!”

 

She gave him a nod, propelling herself up with less power than usual, but making it all the same.

 

Ignis spared another moment to wonder what the devil actually did power her abilities again. Were they tied to the Crystal, or did they have another source and Loqi just happened to jam it as well?

 

Never mind. Later.

 

Lightning cracked in the distance. His heart skipped a beat at first, but the sky was still clear. Just another spell from Noct or Gladio.

 

He kept running. Loqi was still so close, the heavy footfalls of his boots thudding in time with Ignis’ own stride. He couldn’t afford to be distracted now.

 

“ _Ignis, Highwind – what’s your status?_ ”

 

“In pursuit of Loqi now! We’re heading towards the plant!” Ignis replied quickly, rounding the corner to the power plant. The area was wider – they were losing their chance of trapping him in a confined space.

 

Aranea shot down from above again, Loqi barely dodging for a second time as he threw himself to the side, losing hold of the key card in the process.

 

Ignis dropped, sliding across the ground and swiping it up in a move that brought their first encounter to mind.

 

He stood again, flashing Loqi a faint smirk and tossing the key card to his right hand for a better grip. “Much obliged.”

 

If the rage that twisted Loqi’s face was anything to go by, he recognized Ignis’ throwback. He’d managed to keep hold of his gun, and raised it again towards Aranea as she advanced on him.

 

She easily dodged the bullet, closing in further. Clearly panicking, he hurled the gun itself at her, which she easily deflected, but it gave him time to reach into his pocket again and grab another device that he pressed a button on and threw at Ignis.

 

Ignis reflexively tossed a dagger at the device, pinning it to the ground. Trusting Aranea to have Loqi under guard – and possibly dead in a moment – Ignis frowned at the small scrap of metal. It looked like a _beacon_ of some sort.

 

Bloody hell.

 

“Ignis!” Aranea warned, tackling him suddenly as small bloody _missiles_ started raining where the device was.

 

Ignis allowed her momentum to roll them a few times, getting them out of range. He squinted through the explosions that were now settling, seeing how Loqi was doubling back down the alley from where they’d originally come.

 

He released his hold on Aranea to smash his hand against his earpiece. “Loqi’s heading for the Leville – converge there if possible! I have the last key card!”

 

“ _Iggy!_ ”

 

Wait – that wasn’t through their communications.

 

Noct sprinted around the opposite corner of the building from where Loqi had gone, Cindy in tow.

 

“Noct, we– Aranea?” Ignis tried to rise from the ground, only to find that Aranea’s weight wasn’t lifting as well as he’d expected.

 

She grunted lowly, pushing off of him with a wince. “I’m fine.”

 

“Like hell.” Noct reached them, cracking a potion over her and helping her up fully off of Ignis.

 

“Thanks, Pretty Boy,” she said briskly, already looking ready to skewer Loqi again.

 

“Iggy, the key cards.” Noct held out his hand.

 

Ignis scowled. “That was our mission–”

 

“Go after Loqi.” Noct kept his hand out. “I’ve got this.”

 

“…Right.” Ignis dropped the key card in his hand into Noct’s instead before retrieving the others that Cor had given him earlier from his pocket and adding those as well.

 

“Let’s go!” Aranea started running.

 

“I’ll meet you at the Leville!” Noct said, doing the same in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

 

The route wasn’t at all a long one, but every step had Ignis worrying further on what they would find. Had Loqi had enough time to set up another trap? Or worse, had he found a way to truly escape? He didn’t have to wait long to receive an answer. The moment he and Aranea reached the fountain area, Loqi’s strategy was clear.

 

The Magitek armor that awaited them was no more threatening than the ones they’d faced before, yet with Noct’s magic still suppressed, Ignis knew it would be far more difficult.

 

“ _Well, well, Scientia… Highwind… here we are finally,_ ” Loqi said through his speakers.

 

So, now he wanted to taunt. Now that he sat inside some heavy metal protection. How typical.

 

“Got any bright ideas?” Aranea muttered, her lance at the ready.

 

“Yeah, let’s not die!” Prompto yelled, appearing from another nearby alley to join them along with Cor.

 

“Helpful, Prompto!” Gladio said, not far behind them.

 

Ignis spared the alley itself another glance and found Clarus and Nyx there as well, joining at a slower, worn-out pace.

 

Loqi laughed. “ _Is it to be a fight of cripples, then?_ ”

 

“Dad, what the hell?” Gladio scowled, summoning his sword and standing on guard. “One potion is not enough to get you back into action! Get back under cover – we can handle this.”

 

Clarus did not comply, instead moving to stand by his son. “I need a sword.”

 

Cor sighed. “You’re a pain in the ass, Clarus.”

 

“So am I,” Nyx grumbled. “And I need some daggers.”

 

Loqi’s Magitek’s arms swung around, apparently ready for the fight.

 

Ignis quickly summoned an older pair of daggers, handing them over to Nyx as Gladio begrudgingly did the same with a sword for his father.

 

“We’re all gonna die,” Prompto muttered.

 

And then they scattered as Loqi opened fire.

 

It was chaos. Utter chaos as the lot of them tried to avoid being shot down without any of their usual magic. Ignis hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to rely on that magic for his fighting style. It wasn’t just his elemental daggers, it was his every move that seemed to be slowed. Sluggish. His daggers landed with little to no impact, as were everyone else’s weapons.

 

Ironically, in their group of veterans and those trained since birth, _Prompto_ was the one doing the most damage. Not that it was much, but at least it was something.

 

“ _Look at you all – so pathetic without your Crystal!_ ”

 

…Something to drown out Loqi’s drivel, if nothing else. Ignis hurled a lance at the cockpit, hoping to at least give the miscreant something to flinch at. It worked, if the way that he stopped taunting them and started firing with more concentration was any evidence.

 

Ignis hit the ground behind the fountain – ironic, for water to be protecting him from Loqi at the moment – to avoid a smattering of bullets, his ears ringing in the aftermath.

 

They were losing this fight. They might as well have been beating on the metal monster with sticks.

 

“Uh, guys? Problem!” Prompto warned.

 

…Bloody hell. The remaining MTs in the city had arrived, pouring into the area with numbers far greater than they could handle at the moment.

 

And they’d also cut off any possible escape routes. The Leville was the only chance they had for a tactical retreat, but there had to be civilians inside still. They couldn’t risk– 

 

Ignis’ skin buzzed, and he shivered as something exploded in another part of the city.

 

Prompto and Gladio staggered briefly, and they spared each other a grin.

 

“ _No! Impossible!_ ” Loqi cried.

 

Aranea was already back in the air, dancing around her lance and driving it down to destroy three MTs at once.

 

Ignis darted from his cover, lightning crackling around his daggers as he zipped from one end of the plaza to the other. The lightning died out, cold flowing instead as he drove his icy daggers down and created a shockwave that made several MTs stagger.

 

Clarus cut in beside him, his sword now magical once more and allowing him to practically shatter the chilled metal of the MT with one swing. The strike looked as though it took entirely too much effort from him, but the MT was dead all the same, and Prompto took out the one next to it with a well-timed shot.

 

Cor beheaded two of his own MTs, Gladio following up behind him, calling his shield to catch the bullets Loqi aimed for the Marshal. The bullets paused, and Nyx used the opening to bolt past them and cut the wired throats of the last two MTs.

 

And then there was a flash of blue, and Noct landed in the middle of the area, spreading his arms as the Royal Arms spun around him.

 

He grinned. “Let’s go, boys and girls! All in!”

 

The eight of them moved with perfect synergy.

 

Aranea and Noct took to the air as Clarus, Nyx, and Cor went after the legs of Loqi’s Magitek armor.

 

Gladio followed a ways behind them, spinning as he dropped to one knee and cupped his hands. “Iggy!”

 

Ignis took the offered opening, heading for Gladio and allowing him to boost him higher into the air than he could normally reach himself.

 

The Magitek never stood a chance under their combined onslaught. Ignis planted his lance next to Aranea’s in the hull of the machine, digging his weapon in as best he could, and then held on tightly as the attacks below them threw the Magitek off balance.

 

Noct flashed into place higher up on the Magitek, also driving a lance into the surface.

 

Three points of penetrations around the cockpit. Perhaps they needn’t even take the machine down.

 

One shared glance with the two of them was all it took. They planted their feet, magic channeling as they pushed on their lances like massive crowbars. The metal screeched unpleasantly, resisting against the force.

 

And then it gave.

 

Ignis and Aranea fell back, landing smoothly back on the ground but having to roll to the side right after to avoid the cover of the cockpit falling on them.

 

Noct, on the other hand, warped again, landing on the edge of the open cockpit and grabbing Loqi by the front of his shirt. He hauled Loqi out, ignoring the man’s frantic struggling and throwing him to the ground without regards for the height from which he’d thrown him.

 

Loqi hit the ground hard, seeming to lie there stunned as Noct dropped a magic pod in the cockpit and backflipped, warping back to the ground as the center of the Magitek went up in flames.

 

Loqi curled into a ball, covering his head as the debris fell around him.

 

His Magitek fell fully, the sound of metal groaning and creaking echoing across the area before everything fell blissfully silent.

 

Ignis breathed deeply, advancing on Loqi’s curled up form.

 

Loqi looked up at him, true fear in his eyes as Ignis closed in on him. Ignis relished the way the man flinched as he reached down and yanked the mike Loqi had been using to speak to the city off of where it was clipped to his collar.

 

Lestallum’s population was likely all in hiding at this point after all the explosions and gunshots – not to mention the execution they’d had to listen in on.

 

Ignis stepped back, knowing Loqi had no escape with how many utterly pissed off people were watching him at the moment. Ignis coolly locked eyes with him, bringing the mike up to speak into it.

 

“Citizens of Lestallum…” Ignis tried to regain his breath from the fight and speak clearly. “The Imperial presence in your city has been dealt with. Lestallum is once again yours, and yours alone.” He turned the mike off, tossing it aside to the ground.

 

Loqi’s glare was livid, but the fear was still there. Good.

 

Loqi rushed him wildly, pulling a knife from his belt with a yell. It was so predictable and telegraphed that Ignis could have easily deflected it, but Clarus moved first, darting in front of Ignis and slicing a shallow cut in Loqi’s side that made him fall back to the ground. Clarus kicked the dropped knife aside before slowly falling back and exhaustedly handing his sword back over to Gladio.

 

“My thanks,” Ignis said quietly. Clarus merely nodded.

 

Gladio accepted the sword, releasing it back into the Armiger as he took his father’s arm and helped support him. Probably a good idea. Clarus looked as though he was going to black out any moment as he bowed his head and let his eyes close for a moment.

 

“…What the hell is on your neck?” Gladio growled, but Ignis’ attention was already being drawn elsewhere.

 

People were slowly exiting the Leville now, heading towards them.

 

“Keep your distance,” Nyx advised, his voice cracked and rough.

 

The people somewhat complied, beginning to form somewhat of a circle around them.

 

People to witness Loqi’s defeat and shame him further. Ignis appreciated the extra slap in the face that would be to Loqi’s pride as he half-lay, half-sat on the ground, clutching the wound Clarus had given him.

 

Prompto cleared his throat. “Uh, so… What do we do with him now?”

 

That was a good question. Ignis honestly had never expected them to beat him and have him still be alive. Killing him in battle was one thing, but killing him now would be an execution in front of a group of civilians. Not the best light in which to cast the remains of the Lucian royalty.

 

Dear Six did he want to, though. Oh, how he wanted to… Wanted to drive a blade through the man repeatedly for every time he’d lost control of himself or someone he loved had been hurt. For his own pain, for Noct’s, for Aranea, for Clarus, for Nyx, and for Biggs and Wedge especially.

 

He clenched his fists. But he would not do that here. He wouldn’t let Loqi take this self-control from him again. Never again.

 

“Oh, I’ve got a pretty damn good idea.”

 

…Aranea, however, did not have those qualms.

 

She advanced on Loqi then, her lance striking right across his face and knocking him out of his propped-up position on his left arm. But she didn’t stop there – she flipped her lance around, striking him with the blunt end repeatedly to any part of him she could reach.

 

“ _You! Son of a! Bitch!_ ” She punctuated her words with hard strikes of her lance.

 

Loqi cried out under the blows, his thrown-up arms doing little to nothing to shield him as she landed a hit that definitely cracked a rib.

 

“ _You think you can play god with people’s lives and get away with it?_ ”

 

No one moved to stop her, but Ignis glanced back at the civilians, whose mounting horror was evident on nearly every one of their faces.

 

“ _You think you can rip apart families and suffer no consequences?_ ”

 

“Aranea…” he said hollowly. He needed to stop her. He didn’t want to. But he would. For her sake. Not Loqi.

 

“You _bastard!_ ”

 

There was an audible crunch as Loqi’s arm broke from her next blow, and he screamed louder than before.

 

“Aranea!” Ignis reached for her, catching one arm from behind. It took every ounce of his strength to keep her from landing her next strike as she fought against it. He lowered his head to speak softly into her ear. “Aranea, stop… This won’t bring Biggs and Wedge back… Don’t make yourself the villain in the eyes of the people…”

 

She struggled against him for a moment more before she let go of her lance, making it vanish as she collapsed to the ground. Ignis rested an arm around her shoulder as a comfort as she continued to shake with anger.

 

A raspy chuckle from Loqi stole Ignis’ attention yet again.

 

The Imperial had not fared well under Aranea’s assault. Despite having survived the battle itself unscathed, he was now sporting an already swelling eye, some obvious broken bones, and a lot of bleeding patches of skin that were soaking his Imperial uniform. And yet… with all of his injuries, he was still managing to _laugh_ at them.

 

“Misery-addled messes, the lot of you – breaking under the pressures of the world! Just like your pathetic King did before Chancellor Izunia ran him through!” He held his ribs in place as he continued to laugh. “The Empire will destroy you all in the end–”

 

Thunder roared loudly, a chilled wind suddenly whipping through the street as clouds gathered unnaturally fast above them, sending the area into a shadowy darkness.

 

“Uh, Noct…” Prompto said meekly.

 

Ignis nearly recoiled as he looked to Noct.

 

He stalked closer to Loqi, the unnatural wind blowing his robes out behind him as his eyes _glowed_ a rich purple. “Another word about my father and Aranea won’t be the one you need to worry about.”

 

The fear that settled on Loqi’s face was gone as quickly as it had come, and he grinned again. “Best be careful, Your Highness – I’ve heard your Advisor isn’t terribly fond of that sort of weather.”

 

Noct faltered, glancing at Ignis before he closed his eyes. The wind died down, the clouds slowly receding.

 

Loqi laughed again, louder this time. “You’re as weak as he was that night – shivering and crying in terror. A little more time and I would have had him broken!”

 

Ignis shoved himself to his feet, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but Gladio beat him to it.

 

“I’ve had about enough out of you.” Gladio’s voice was low and dangerous as he stared at his father’s neck.

 

Oh, dear Six… Was that a _brand_ of the Imperial symbol?

 

“How unfortunate for you, then, because long after I’m dead I will still be in your head!” He was cackling madly now. “Oh, I do hope you enjoy caring after your dear old dad! I may not have broken him or your Captain in body, but I daresay their spirits are good and cracked! Tell me – when was the last time a Lucian Shield outlived their King? You are branded with failure, and that will never leave you! And you – Scientia and Highwind! How do you ever hope to succeed against the Empire now, as damaged as you are! Perhaps I should have passed a suggestion on for my superiors to arm themselves with garden hoses! Might even work on your Captain too, at this point! You–”

 

Aranea surged to her feet, lance in hand… but Gladio was faster. He shoved past Noct, knocking his ward to the side as he hauled Loqi up by his neck and spun him around, forcing him over to–

 

The fountain.

 

Gladio held Loqi there for only a moment, one hand grabbing his hair and the other clamped onto his damaged shoulder in a way that had Loqi gritting his teeth.

 

“Let’s see how much you _really_ enjoy water torture,” Gladio hissed, the look on his face darker than Ignis had ever seen.

 

And then he forced Loqi’s head under the water, easily holding him there as Loqi thrashed in his hold.

 

Ignis tried to look away.

 

Nyx swallowed, closing his eyes and turning to limp away as he held his side. Clarus and Prompto and Noct seemed frozen in place.

 

Ignis’ gaze drifted back to the scene, and he found himself staring, unable to even blink.

 

“Gladio, he’s a _prisoner,_ ” Cor reminded. “He’s no threat right now – this is senseless violence.”

 

Gladio didn’t stop. Gladio didn’t even let Loqi up for air at all.

 

He wasn’t trying to _torture_ him, Ignis realized. Gladio was going to finish things this way.

 

There was a gentle touch on Ignis’ arm as Aranea tried to get him to turn away. “Come on… you don’t need to see this.”

 

Ignis didn’t budge an inch.

Loqi clawed at the edge of the fountain, his nails chipping off and his fingers beginning to bleed with the futile effort as the rest of his body twitched and jerked.

 

The splashing, the gurgling… Ignis felt a tremor form in his own hand.

 

“Gladio…” Cor said again, but he still made no move to stop him.

 

Loqi’s struggles became weaker as the seconds ticked by, dying down to a few unsettling uncontrolled spasms of his muscles. Soon, he stopped moving entirely.

 

The tension… the struggling… it all left Loqi’s body. He went limp.

 

He was _dead_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tosses confetti* I do hope that was as satisfying for you all as it was for me. There was no other end I ever had in mind for him after he water boarded Ignis.


	45. The Aftermath

  
“…Son.” Clarus struggled to walk as he moved over to Gladio.   
  
Gladio blinked. Once. Twice. He looked up, then down at Loqi’s body beneath his hands, then at the silent crowd of citizens nearby.  
  
He let go of the body, causing it to fall back to the ground. Ignis felt as though he might vomit. One of Loqi’s eyes was nearly swollen shut; but the other was open and staring in Ignis’ direction as water leaked of the corner of Loqi’s mouth.   
  
Gladio clenched and unclenched his hands. His voice was more unsteady and hollow than Ignis had ever heard before. “He’d… He’d hurt enough people. If he lived, there would have been a chance of it starting all over again. Not anymore. We’re all safe from him now.”  
  
“…Um. Guys?” Prompto spoke softly, a waver on his second word. “I’m, uh, not feeling so great…”  
  
“Prompto!” Noctis cried suddenly, and Ignis was finally able to look away from Loqi’s body to find Prompto dazedly staring at his own blood-soaked hand. There was a matching shade of the color on his shoulder, along with a hole.  
  
Cor and Noctis moved faster than everyone else, at Prompto’s side as quickly as possible.   
  
“When were you hit?” Noct demanded.   
  
“Uh…” Prompto grabbed onto Noctis’ shoulder. “Earlier? Didn’t feel so bad at first.”   
  
Cor checked Prompto’s back. “The bullet is in the wound. Best we get him to the hospital.”  
  
Ignis cleared his throat, trying to regain full composure. “We should all… relocate.” He could still feel the gaze of the crowd on him, though he was trying his best to ignore them all.   
  
“I’ll take care of the cleanup while you get him healed.” Cor, although seeming reluctant, backed away from Prompto. He scanned the crowd. “As soon as he’s able, we should depart for Caem. We should be able to make it before nightfall if we hurry.”  
  
A good plan. Lingering after… everything was not favorable.   
  
“…I’m going to get Biggs’ body,” Aranea announced.   
  
“…That’s a good idea. Yeah,” Noct agreed, glancing back at Ignis for a moment. Of course he was worried. He had every reason to be.   
  
Subtly, Noct signed, Go with her.   
  
Ignis hesitated. He wanted to be there for Prompto, but the injury wasn’t life threatening, and he would have the others at his side. Aranea… her family was gone. She needed someone right now.   
  
Ignis gave Noct a small nod. “I’ll accompany you. …If you don’t mind, Aranea.”   
  
Cor glared at Clarus. “You. Hospital too.”  
  
“…No objections.” Clarus barely glanced at him, his attention still primarily on Gladio, who was just… standing there, not seeming to know what to do with himself.   
  
And so they peeled off in their different directions.   
  
Ignis tried to breathe deeply as he trailed after Aranea towards the roof. The civilians fled out of their way, leaving them with a clear path.   
  
The relief that they’d sought after… the relief that Ignis had dreamed of for so long… It was nowhere to be found.   
  
He should have been consoled in some way. Loqi would never again harm anyone he cared for. That should have meant something. But it didn’t. Loqi was right – he was still haunting them. He would always be there for some of them.   
  
For Noct, it was the lack of hearing in his right ear. For Aranea, it was the void of her murdered comrades and friends. For Clarus and Gladio, the brand on Clarus’ neck. Nyx… Ignis hadn’t exactly gotten a good look at him, but if Loqi’s words were anything to go by, then he’d suffered plenty under Loqi’s hand during his short time with him. Even Prompto and Cor, who carried no physical scars – assuming Prompto’s wound was treated right – would hold plenty of memories to haunt them.   
  
Long after I’m dead I will still be in your head!  
  
It was hard to imagine a future where that wasn’t the truth at the moment. 

* * *

  
  
The waiting room was quiet. Noctis was used to quiet with his hearing and all, but it was bothering him far more right now than usual.   
  
Probably because he’d never had to sit by his Shield after he’d watched him go ballistic and brutally killed someone with his bare hands before.   
  
Like… there was no doubting Gladio’s strength. Noctis had known Gladio could do something like that, but… he was a Shield. He’d always been protective, not unnecessarily violent.   
  
But at the same time…  
  
“He deserved it,” Noctis finally muttered. “After everything… He deserved it.”   
  
Gladio kept staring at his shoes. “…I snapped.”  
  
“…You think?” Noctis said incredulously.   
  
Gladio went quiet again.   
  
“…Have you told Iris anything yet?” Noctis asked a few moments later.   
  
Gladio jerked at that, sitting up straight. “Six, no, I haven’t! I haven’t even processed things myself yet.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “I was so sure. I just didn’t even consider that Dad could have made it out. Granted, I’m not sure making it out is the right choice of words, but–”  
  
“He’s alive. That’s what counts.” Noctis tried to keep the tightness out of his voice. He was thrilled Clarus was alive. He really was. And he didn’t at all blame him for his father’s death – he knew Clarus had to have given everything he had. But that still didn’t keep him from longing to have his dad back. It didn’t keep him from wondering how Clarus survived when his dad didn’t.  
  
“Yeah…” Gladio let out a shaky laugh, smiling dazedly. “Iris is gonna be so happy.”  
  
Noct hummed. He could tell Gladio was trying to downplay things – trying not to rub it in – but Noct could see just how overjoyed he was now that this whole thing was really hitting.   
  
Well, at least one person had something positive come out of all this. Noct felt bad thinking at least no one he deeply cared about died again, because Biggs and Wedge really had been nice, but he’d barely known them.   
  
Ignis, Nyx, and Aranea, though? Them he was worried about.   
  
…Where even was Nyx? Hadn’t he just broken a couple of bones earlier? Not to mention anything else Loqi might have done to him. Noctis seriously doubted that Nyx would have been in his custody for long without him trying something. Nyx needed a hospital visit before they left, that was for sure.   
  
Scowling, Noctis pulled out his phone, typing out a message to Cor and sending it. He was probably done with… what he needed to do by now. And he would probably know how to find Nyx. They’d worked together for a while, after all.   
  
“…What the hell am I supposed to say to Iris?” Gladio wondered, bringing Noct’s attention back to him. “Should I call her and tell her, or just let her talk to him? Or should I just let her see him when we show up in Caem?”  
  
“Uh…” Yeah, Noctis had nothing on this one, and he didn’t envy Gladio’s choices. This had to be a tough one. “Maybe ask your dad what he wants to do when we see him later?”  
  
Gladio looked to be musing on that for a few moments. “Yeah… that might be for the best. She might cheer him up after talking to you…”  
  
“Huh?” What, was he suddenly the harbinger of dread and depression or something?  
  
Gladio shrugged one shoulder. “Figured you’d want to ask… you know, about Insomnia… and your dad.”  
  
Right. Yeah… He really did. “I mean, that can wait…”  
  
“No.” Gladio shook his head. “He’s gonna be expecting it. Better to not let it hang over both of you.”  
  
…Probably true. Noctis just… wasn’t really ready himself yet. Like, what was he supposed to say, exactly? ‘Hey, so how come you’re alive when my dad’s dead since you were supposed to protect him?’ That was… yeah, no. Not doing that. But the question was still there. He just needed to figure out how to phrase it better. Even though he knew Clarus was going to take it like that regardless. His dad wasn’t just Clarus’ King… He’d been his best friend.   
  
This was like… This was like if Noctis died on Ignis’ watch. He could only imagine how much Ignis would be drowning in guilt.   
  
Well. At least he knew he’d never have to see that if it actually did happen.   
  
…Because that was so comforting.   
  


* * *

  
  
Lestallum didn’t exactly have anywhere within its concrete walls for a burial, so Ignis and Aranea had to make do with bringing Biggs’ body back to her hotel room and laying a sheet over it. He deserved so much more, but Ignis supposed it was still better than what most of those in Insomnia received.  
  
Aranea had dragged a chair over beside the bed, wordlessly taking a seat there and remaining silent for a while before she finally spoke. “This is no place for him. I’m taking him to Wiz’s.”   
  
Fitting. He and Wedge would have wanted to be buried close together. Astrals knew Ignis would want to be buried by his friend since his family had no special tombs. His family in Insomnia likely hadn’t been buried at all.   
  
Ignis wondered if Aranea wanted to be alone for the task or if she’d welcome someone else’s presence. He placed a hand on the back of her chair. “I can accompany you, if you wish.”   
  
She shook her head slowly. “No… No, your place is here. With your people.”  
  
Ignis frowned. “You speak as though this is a one-way trip.”  
  
She said nothing.   
  
Ignis’ chest lurched painfully. “…You intend to leave and not return?”  
  
More silence. Then… “Crisis is over. Back to business as usual, right?”   
  
“Business as usual?” Ignis repeated incredulously. “Aranea, what do you plan to do? Go back to being a mercenary on your own with the Empire still hunting you?”  
  
“I can take care of myself,” she protested tiredly.   
  
“That I have never doubted.” He took a step closer to her chair. “But just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to.” He took a breath, moving so that he was between her and the bed. He knelt in front of her. “I cannot go back to the way things were between us, and a life alone and on the run is not a life anyone should have to face. Please, Aranea, take Noct’s offer. Stay with us.” He took her hands in his own, imploring her. “Stay with me…”   
  
She stared down at him, her face unreadable. “I’ve never… I’ve never had a cause that I’ve believed in before. Nobody that I had enough faith in to follow…”  
  
“It needn’t be an overnight change,” he reasoned, though he didn’t find her words entirely true. Biggs and Wedge may have followed her rather than vice versa, but they were still her cause. Her family. “I’m not asking you to devote your full life to Noct as Gladio and I have. I’m only asking that we face the Empire together rather than apart. That we try to heal together.”  
  
She squeezed his thumbs, nodding faintly. “Okay… After. After I’m done with Biggs. Should only be a couple of days max. Then I’ll join you again. I promise. For now, though… I need you to let me go.”     
  
Relief flooded Ignis, loosening the tightness that had been strangling his upper chest. “Of course… I imagine we’ll be in Caem for a few days ourselves. Take your time. Some… reunions need to take place anyway.” Goodness, the Amicitias were in for an interesting week. And then there were Nyx and Prompto. They’d need physical healing, and all of them likely needed mental healing at this point.   
  
“Then mark it for our reunion too.”  
  
“As you wish.” Whatever he could do to ease her troubles at this moment.   
  
Aranea started to stand, giving him enough time to rise with her. “But right now… you should go join Noct and the others. You’ll need each other, and I need some time to think. No offense.”  
  
“None taken.” He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. He understood perfectly about her needing some further solitude.   
  
She snorted at his actions. “You’re such an old man.”  
  
“Perhaps.” He smiled a bit, raising his head again. “But I daresay you find it charming.”  
  
She smiled sadly, raising a hand to his face. “We should have acted on all this sooner.”  
  
He wished they had. Dear Shiva, did he wish. Their entire relationship was formed amidst tragedies they could never forget. “We should.” Their start had not been a fire in their hearts for each other, but for revenge. They had waited too long and started it wrong. And now she was leaving, albeit temporarily.   
  
He could only hope that they could stick together despite all of this.   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey dokey, guys! Here is the deal for the future of this fic.
> 
> I AM taking the Hours verse to the end of the game, but I’m going to take a more broad overview starting in a couple of chapters. One fic covering the ten years is way more than enough. lol Oh, and the chapters are going to be much bigger with one from the POV of each remaining main character of the Hours verse. See you there!


	46. The Marshal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey dokey, friends! Here's the first of the finishing chapters. Currently, it looks like there are going to be 52 by the end. Oh, and ABE should be back in motion next week!

 

Getting literal blood off of one’s hands was always difficult, Cor mused as he scrubbed his knuckles with his soap-lathered rag. He didn’t have much to work with in the small restroom he’d found, but he wasn’t about to return to the Leville, and he certainly wasn’t going to knock on someone’s house either. The citizens may not have liked Loqi, but seeing him brutally killed before their eyes hadn’t exactly endeared them to Gladio or anyone with him.

 

At least the body was no longer in their streets. Cor had taken care of that. The obvious mess was gone now.

 

He’d just shut off the tap, satisfied that he’d cleaned his skin well enough, when his phone went off. He pulled it from his pocket instantly, a habit he’d developed given his many years of being ready to receive news of a crisis at any given moment.

 

He frowned at the screen. It wasn’t often that he received texts, but he knew Noctis preferred to text rather than talk on the phone due to his hearing.

 

**Noctis:** _Hey, have you seen Nyx? He should be here. :/_

 

Yes… yes he should have been. The dampened potion that Cor had dropped on Nyx was not enough to entirely negate the broken arm and ribs he’d suffered, not to mention whatever Loqi had done to him – waterboarding at the very least from what Loqi had implied. The hospital was most definitely the best place for him. But he was Nyx, so naturally, that was where he was not.

 

Cor typed out a short message back before heading out, letting the door swing shut behind him. There were only a few places he’d expect the Captain to be, and it wouldn’t take long to search them.

* * *

 

 

The outlook. Nyx seemed to be a glutton for punishment sometimes – staying in view of where he’d nearly died earlier that day. Somehow, Cor wasn’t even surprised. Nyx wasn’t even facing away either, where the famous view of the meteor lay, providing a beautiful view. He was leaning against the stone railing – away from the crowds – looking half dead in the overly tight-fitting, black, and collared shirt that Prompto had pulled out of the Armiger for him once they’d rescued him. Probably one of Ignis’ shirts by the look of things, now that he thought about it. Noctis’ and Prompto’s clothes never would have fit him, and Cor wasn’t even certain the buttons on Gladio’s shirts worked.

 

Cor approached him slowly, unsure whether or not Nyx hadn’t noticed him or was just choosing not to acknowledge him yet. “You should be at the hospital with the others.”

 

Nyx made a sound that was a verbal approximation of a shrug. He didn’t turn, although his head canted a little, allowing Cor to see the edge of Nyx’s eye. “I’ll get there.”

 

“We have limited time.” Cor stopped a few feet from him, allowing some space. Space was usually for the best when it came to traumas. “Best we not linger after the… impression we’ve left on the citizens.”

 

Nyx’s shoulders rose as he snorted. “You mean the impression Gladio’s given them.”

 

“Yes,” Cor said flatly. There was no point in denying it. Gladio had always been strong, but never in all the years of training Cor had overseen had he spotted a darkness of that sort within him. This development had been jarring for everyone. Cor wondered what Clarus thought of it in particular. “An impression also placed upon us by association. We head for Caem once everyone is ready to travel. I believe Noctis has already obtained a ship there.”

 

Nyx angled his head towards the distant Leap again, rolling his good shoulder before reaching up to adjust his shirt’s collar. “Wise.”

 

“And foolish for you to waste a chance for true medical aid,” Cor said bluntly. “Potions alone will not help you with health upkeep, and there will certainly be no other facilities in Caem. I also find it difficult to believe that you didn’t suffer more than those broken bones lately.”

 

It was no doubt a testament to how bad things had gotten that Nyx didn’t look like he even tried to hide his flinch or the way his hand recoiled from his neck as though the touch burned. It would’ve been plausible too if Cor hadn’t seen him shirtless earlier. “He certainly had it coming.”

 

Cor grunted in agreement. “Gladio may have done the deed, but none of us made much effort to stop him. In his younger age, Regis himself would have had Loqi executed when we caught him the first time.”

 

“What stopped him?”

 

“Politics,” Cor almost spat. “Regis had no intentions of ever releasing Loqi to the Empire, but showing _mercy_ kept things from escalating between us and the Empire further.” Oh, Regis had wanted him _dead._ He’d done well to keep how much he hated the man hidden to others, but there were times when Regis had to repeat things to Noctis and his face grew dark shortly after.

 

“Of course politics.” Nyx cast another glance towards the Leap, fingers twitching as though they wanted to rise again. “For all the good waiting did.”

 

“It _did_ do good.” Cor moved closer finally, leaning next to Nyx on the railing. “Things may not have gone the best, but Regis was able to secure the best weapon we have.” Of course, Nyx still didn’t know the full extent of the prophecy, so he might take that a different way.

 

Beside him, Nyx raised his hand again, but this time he rubbed his brow as he took a visibly slow breath. “I get it. I’m just… being cynical right now.”

 

“I can’t imagine why.” Cor gave him a look. “Do I need to order an injury report, or do you plan to go to the hospital?” He would drag him there if he had to. Not that it would be terribly difficult. A strong breeze could have knocked the Glaive over right now.

 

A frown flickering over his face, Nyx shook his head slightly and rested his hand on the railing. “No. Or – yes, I’ll go. Just taking advantage of the fresh air.”

 

It was a sad day when the heated streets of Lestallum were considered fresh air, but anything beat a torture chamber. “You’ll enjoy Caem, then. I still remember the sea air there.”

 

“As long as it’s quiet, I’ll take it.”

 

“Unless you have an aversion to the occasional seagull.”

 

Nyx’s huffed breath edged in the direction of laughter, though Cor didn't miss the way his hand tightened around the railing. “I think I’ll live.”

 

That was better than could be said for most of their comrades at current. Still… Cor knew at least one of the many things that had to be bothering Nyx. Cor let silence fall for a moment before he spoke again. “There’s plenty of failure to go around, Nyx. No need for you to try and hoard all of it.”

 

Nyx’s gaze cut towards him for a moment before he exhaled. “Sorry, sir, I’ll do my best to ensure the failure gets evenly distributed.”

 

Cor snorted. “You may have to fight Clarus for some, then. I expect he’s amassing a certain amount himself.”

 

Nyx reached up to adjust his collar again, though this time it looked like he wasn’t fully aware of the motion. There was something distant about his gaze, as though he was seeing into another time, another place. Cor didn’t have to think very hard to determine when and where. “Yeah, well, he survived where most people wouldn’t. There’s no dishonor in that.”

 

Cor raised an eyebrow. “Wise words. You should take them to heart.”

 

“I’m not–” He stopped, jaw hardening as he stared at the view offered by the Overlook. “I’m not the one who’s outlived my King.”

 

“Nor have I, in the sense that Clarus has. But in _my_ sense, I’ve outlived two.” He might not have been able to save Mor, but Regis and Clarus might have fared far better with him at their sides. He would have to live with not knowing if he could have made a difference there.

 

Nyx didn't respond immediately, either digesting the information or reeling his thoughts back into the present. “Hopefully a third won’t become reality.”

 

If only… But Cor knew that the only way to avoid that reality was dying fairly soon. Neither were favorable options. “Hopefully…” he repeated.

 

Nyx made another adjustment to his collar before closing his hand into a fist and resting it once more on the railing. When he finally spoke again, it was with a distinct lack of enthusiasm – something almost bordering on dread. “Scientia. Is he… Has this changed anything? For him?”

 

Cor wouldn’t have called the look on Ignis’ face anything positive earlier, but seeing someone killed in the way he’d been tortured – even if it was his _torturer_ – couldn’t have been easy to watch. He might be _much_ better in a few days’ time, or perhaps around the same. “Difficult to tell, this soon. I haven’t seen him since he went to help Highwind with her task.”

 

Nyx nodded, gaze drifting towards the Leap one last time before he pushed off the railing, a slow, cautious movement designed to cause minimal discomfort. “Suppose I’ll have to talk to him.”

 

Cor hummed. “Might do you both well.”

 

A grimace flickered over Nyx’s face, but there was something resigned to it. “Might.”

 

* * *

 

 

After walking with Nyx to the hospital and making certain he actually started speaking to the staff, Cor left him be to go search out the rest of their comrades. Unsurprisingly, Noctis appeared to have fallen asleep in his chair in the waiting room. Gladio was absent, so Cor assumed he was with Clarus – as he should have been. They’d need time together to even begin healing. Best give them that.

 

That left one member of their entourage that needed checking on.

 

Getting into Prompto’s hospital room might have proved to be a small issue back in Insomnia, but he didn’t have a problem here. Probably just because the whole city was avoiding them in an effort not to get murdered. Prompto appeared to have won over his nurse with his nervous chattering, if her barely suppressed, amused smile was anything to go by, but she fled the room quickly after Cor arrived.

 

He waited until she’d left to take a seat by the bed. “Feeling better?”

 

Prompto sent him a double thumbs-up. “Oh, yeah! They pulled the bullet out and then, bam! Potion! All healed up now!”

 

Cor raised an eyebrow at his false cheer. “No lingering pain?”

 

“Nope.” He forced another smile before his expression turned more serious. “What about everyone else?”

 

“They aren’t dying.” That was about all that could be said for them at the moment. They would survive, and that was a start. It was a lot more than could be said for some other good people who’d fallen lately.

 

Prompto winced, rolling his arm and stretching it. “Er, well, yay for that…”  

 

Cor crossed his arms. “A great amount of credit for that goes to you, particularly in terms of Nyx.” It was always good to give the kid a little bit of praise. His self-confidence had gotten much better the last couple of years, but the occasional boost was not unwarranted.

 

Prompto’s face flushed as he laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Just, uh, did what you told me to!”

 

Cor arched an eyebrow. “I don’t recall telling you to throw any knives. You thought on your feet. That’s one of the marks of a great Crownsguard. Well done.” Cor knew he never could have made some of the shots Prompto had.

 

Prompto made a few garbled noises before getting out, “T-thanks.”

 

Cor inwardly chuckled. Still so far to go, but Prompto _was_ a brilliant Crownsguard. His skill set was top notch, he just needed to focus more and stop doubting himself fully.

 

Not once had Cor regretted bringing him to Insomnia, even if he wished he’d found more attentive parents for him when he was a child. Regardless, Prompto had turned out well. Cor was proud of him. Despite his less-than-ideal upbringing, he was still a light of positivity that the group needed – _sorely_ needed right now. He’d no doubt be lifting their moods in the continuation of this aftermath. Or at least, he’d try. It wasn’t going to be the easiest of tasks given the absolute mental mess of the entire royal entourage, but Cor had faith in him.

 

He had faith in all of them. The world was in good hands.


	47. The Shields

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, friends! We’re going to be jumping time a lot more after this chapter. Wish I could take it slower, but GEEZ. I do not need another 200k on this AU. lol The main crisis is concluded. I just thought you all would like to know how things turned out. :)

 The ride to Caem would have been silently uncomfortable had Gladio not been so lost in thought. With Cor, Nyx, and Clarus taking another car, their usual group of four had finally reunited in the Regalia for the trip. Only, it was nothing like it had been when they left Insomnia. Noct was driving, silently staring at the road with a concentration level that for once didn’t raise Gladio’s blood pressure. Prompto was staring out over the landscape, rubbing his arm absently but not making a move to shoot any pictures. And Ignis was just… blank. He’d been staring at the back of the seat in front of him with his arms crossed ever since he’d gotten in the car, and he’dmuttered something about Aranea catching up with them later.

 

The atmosphere would have been oppressive had Gladio not withdrawn into his own mind not long after them hitting the road. Now he just had to deal with the oppressiveness of his conscience.

 

Loqi had been a prisoner.

 

_He was a murdering bastard._

 

He hadn’t been a threat.

 

_He tortured Gladio’s friends and family._

 

It had practically been done in cold blood.

 

_He’d deserved it._

 

Who was he to play judge, jury, and executioner?

 

_He’d branded Gladio’s father._

 

They were supposed to be _better_ than the Empire.

 

Around and around his thoughts went, making his stomach churn uncomfortably. Some hours after the drive had begun, the grey sky had made good on its threat and opened up. Noct had put the hood up hours ago just in case, so the soft plinks on the roof began to fill the silence. Gladio glanced over at Ignis to check on him only to find that he had nodded off, his head awkwardly cushioned by the door and the window. The rain did nothing to disturb his sleep.

 

Gladio found himself unable to look away for a moment. He barely recognized Ignis like this. Unlike the rest of them, he hadn’t changed clothes at the hospital, so he was still in his blue assassin coat – the collar turned up slightly around his chin while his bangs hung across one half of his face. His recently replaced glasses were drooping close to the end of this nose due to the way his head had fallen. He didn’t look like himself. At least… not like he had before he’d left them. Gladio doubted he’d ever have let them see him like this then. Right now he looked… young. Not just younger than he physically was, but so, so much younger than he normally carried himself. It made Gladio wonder how much weight Ignis had been carrying on his shoulders daily that he hadn’t noticed before all this.

Some rustling from the front seat drew Gladio’s attention as Noct put some soft music on. Right. Yeah. So Ignis didn’t wake up screaming because he heard rain.

 

It was all so obvious now. Ignis didn’t call in sick, exactly, but Gladio could now remember him being noticeably absent in the Citadel some days. Some days when it happened to be raining.

 

He couldn’t imagine suffering so much from something so simple, and then having to keep that suffering a secret.

 

Gladio leaned his head back against his seat. Maybe killing Loqi like that had been crossing a line, but if it helped Ignis sleep any better… maybe it was worth it.

 

Maybe.

 

* * *

 

 

Being in the Regalia, they arrived in Caem before the others. That was good, because Gladio still hadn’t told Iris. Just hadn’t seemed right to do it over the phone when he and his dad had still barely spoken.

 

His dad wanted to talk, but the doctor wasn’t having it while they were at the hospital. His dad had just looked too damned exhausted for Gladio to bring himself to try after that. And then, of course, his dad had been in a different car.

 

So, yeah… Talks needed to be had. But Iris came first.

 

“We’re here,” Noct announced, but he didn’t kill the engine yet. He was frowning at the sky. Luckily, the ran had died off for the moment, leaving just a sprinkle above them as the sun sank below the horizon. Gladio hoped Ignis would be okay with that.

 

Ignis stirred at Noct’s words, pushing his glasses up and instantly grimacing as he tried to raise his head. A hand went to his neck as he looked out the window. “Has it been raining?”

 

“Yep. But you slept like me through most of it.” Noct killed the engine then, along with the soft music that had still been playing.

 

Ignis hummed sleepily, still rubbing his neck as they exited the car.

 

Gladio swallowed. Wouldn’t be long until the others got here. He needed to find Iris.

 

“ _Prince Noctis!_ ” Talcott appeared, sprinting down the path that led to the lighthouse.

 

Well, Iris wouldn’t be far behind, then.

 

Or… maybe she would, because a few moments passed and she still wasn’t there.

 

Gladio stepped up to Talcott as he got close to them. “Talcott, hey. Where’s Iris?”

 

“Oh, she’s in the garden.”

 

Right. “Thanks.” He clapped Talcott on his shoulder.

 

Well, he wasn’t going to run off when he was still concerned it might start raining and Ignis might have a mental meltdown. He could wait until they were all at the house. They’d still definitely beat the others up the hill, even if they were dragging.

 

And so, they groggily began the ascent – Talcott chattering away excitedly to Ignis since he’d been gone and hadn’t seen him since Insomnia. Ignis indulged him with half-hearted answers until Noct cut in, distracting the boy with praise about how they found the mythril due to him.

 

It was all so normal. Like the whole thing at the festival _hadn’t_ just happened earlier that day.

 

Six, how did all this even fit in just a day?

 

They reached the house after what felt like an eternity later to find Cid standing outside.

 

Oh, yeah. Cid… He needed to know things too.

 

“Well, it’s about time you showed up. You slackin’ off out there? Tell me you at least got that mythril.”

 

Noct sighed tiredly. “Yeah… Yeah, we got it… among other things.”

 

Cid zeroed in on Ignis. “Well, I’ll be.”

 

Ignis gave Cid a stiff nod. “Good day, Cid.”

 

His tone would have convinced absolutely no one that it was a good day.

 

Iris pushed out of the door to the house then, drying her hands with a rag. “Hey, guys– oh my gosh! Ignis!” For once her attention wasn’t on Noct. “How are you?”

 

Gladio cleared his throat. He could help Ignis out with the awkwardness and do what he needed to do – two birds with one stone. “Hey, Iris, I need to talk to you for a sec.”

 

“Me?” She frowned while smiling. “Yeah, sure…”

 

Gladio took the stairs on the porch all in one step, ushering her inside the house and closing the door behind them. “You, uh, should probably sit down.” He pulled a chair at the table out for her.

 

“O… kay.” She gave him a look as she sat down. “You’re kind of worrying me here, Gladdy…”

 

Gladio dragged his own chair out and dropped into it, resting his elbows on his knees as he faced her. He took a breath. How was the best way to go about this?

 

“Iris, Dad’s alive.”

 

…Probably not that.

 

For a moment her face was blank, uncomprehending. “…Dad? He… _what?_ ”

 

In for a gil… She of all people was used to his lack of skill with words anyway. Facts were good. He could do those. “He was captured by the Empire in Insomnia, but we rescued him. He’s on his way here now. Should show up any minute.”

 

Tears sprang into her eyes as she let out a laugh, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Seriously? You’re serious? He’s actually… oh my gosh, I…” She launched herself at him, and he found himself grinning as he hugged her back.

 

She was tough. She’d hidden her pain well. But this was their _dad,_ and he knew his “death” had hit her hard. He’d been able to push it aside more with all he had to do, but it had to have been worse on her. _Gardening_ wasn’t exactly the same as running around and fighting the Empire in terms of keeping the mind occupied.

 

Iris pulled back, worry suddenly dampening her excitement. “But he was captured? What did they do to him? Is he okay?”

 

Oh, great. She’d gone straight to that. Well, he wasn’t going to lie to her. “He’s… recovering. He’ll be all right. That’s what’s important.”

 

…He should have asked Ignis to help him out with this.

 

There was a knock from outside, and Noct’s muffled voice came through the door. “Hey, Gladio? The other car is here.”

 

Iris tore out of her chair, ripping the door open and startling Noct as she brushed past him on her way out. Gladio found himself following, stumbling somewhat on the loose gravel of the hill as he tried to catch up with her.

 

Despite her head start, Gladio was able to gain enough ground back in time to see her meet their dad at the car and throw her arms around him. Gladio slowed his gait as he approached them. Emotion was raw on his father’s face as he shakily placed his arms around her, clinging to her strongly as he closed his eyes.

 

The pressure in Gladio’s chest built, and he swallowed, closing the gap between them all and placing his arms on both their backs, leaning his forehead to rest again his father’s.

 

He’d never expected this – to have his family back. He hadn’t even allowed himself to wish for this, but now…

 

Six, was he thankful, no matter what lay ahead.

 

At least they had this.

 

* * *

 

 

They stayed up talking. Well, not all of them – Talcott had turned in at a reasonable hour, but the rest of them crowded around the table to listen to Nyx and Gladio’s dad tell of what had happened in Insomnia.

 

Apparently, he’d been covering Regis when he’d been shot in the back by Loqi. Ravus Nox Fleuret had used that as a distraction to get the Ring, but the Lucii had rejected him and burnt his arm to a crisp. That was when Nyx had shown up with Lunafreya and gotten the King and the Ring out. The rest of the Imperial forces had followed them as they took off, but Loqi had spotted that Clarus was still alive and took the opportunity to take him prisoner.

 

It didn’t escape Gladio’s notice that his dad was speaking mostly to Noct throughout the story. Almost like he was apologizing to him for not being enough to keep Regis alive. Noct for the most part just stared at the mug of cider in his hands.

 

Until Nyx kept going with the story.

 

“It was that damned Chancellor – Izunia,” Nyx spat, fist clenched tight atop the table.

 

Then Noct looked up sharply, a soft _what_ falling from his mouth. “Ardyn? _He’s_ the one?”

 

Six. That bastard had been parading around claiming to help them when he’d been the one to kill Noct’s father this whole time. But on another note, Gladio had questions. “Wait, _Ardyn_ managed to best King Regis in a fight?” How? He had power via command, yeah, but he had yet to actually brandish a weapon in front of them. Regis had been trained practically since birth, and even with age dampening his skill, he was still more than adapt with the Armiger.

 

Nyx shook his head. “I don’t know how he did it. The Empire must have some heavy-duty experimental stuff goin’ on.”

 

“Like what kind of stuff?” Noct demanded, his rage barely contained. “Like another Crystal jammer?”

 

Nyx shook his head, frowning. “More the opposite. I could have sworn that he had his own Armiger.”

 

Clarus and Cor abruptly looked to him at that. Cid stopped mid stride, his mug in hand, as he’d been going to the kitchen to refill his cup.

 

“But, wait, wasn’t that before they got the Crystal?” Prompto pointed out.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Noct said.

 

Ignis tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps Aranea might be able to shed some light on this topic. After all, she has been able to summon her lance even back when we first encountered her.”

 

“Sounds like a start,” Nyx said, and then he frowned, looking from Gladio’s dad to Cor and then to Cid.

 

Gladio frowned too. He was also noticing that his dad had gone silent. Not to mention Cid was still stalled halfway to the kitchen.

 

“Dad?” Gladio prodded. “You know something about this?”

 

His father met his gaze, but he still didn’t speak. That was a definite _yes_ then, but why wasn’t he telling them?

 

“…Cor?” Noct pressed.

 

But it was Cid that spoke. “Kid deserves to know.”

“ _Cid,_ ” Gladio’s father said sharply.

 

“Reggie didn’t raise no slack-jawed, spoiled boy, Clarus.” Cid turned around, a hand pressing into his back as though it were paining him. “He’s ready for the truth. Been ready, I’d say.”

 

Noct’s eyebrows shot up at that.

 

“Not tonight.” Cor started to rise from the table, clearly trying to end the conversation.

 

“ _Cor,_ ” Noct said firmly.

 

Cor paused.

 

Gladio’s father sighed, looking even more worn out than when he’d been walking up the hill here. “Cid’s right, Cor. It’s time.”

 

Gladio could have sworn he saw pain actually flash in Cor’s eyes. “…Very well. A word in private, if you would, Highness?”

 

* * *

 

 

It was tedious, waiting for Noct to come to the upstairs room they’d all been given. It felt like an eternity, and rightfully so given that it _was_ a couple of hours. The three of them all remained seated on their beds rather than actually in them at first, Ignis steepling his hands and looking thoughtful as he stared at the wall while Prompto bobbed his leg endlessly.

 

Prompto only lasted half an hour before he pulled Ignis into a game of darts with the board that was in the room. They didn’t really seem to keep score, though. Just traded throwing the darts repeatedly until Ignis tired of it.

 

Eventually, despite obviously trying to stay awake, Prompto slumped over in an awkward position atop his covers. Ignis shook his head fondly, moving over to cover him with a blanket before returning to sit on his bed.

 

“You gonna keep that coat on as everyday wear?” Gladio asked lowly, finally breaking his silence.

 

Ignis blinked, looking down as though he hadn’t realized he was still in costume. …Wow, he probably actually had forgotten.

 

“…I supposed I could get changed while we’re waiting on Noct,” Ignis muttered.

 

“Should keep it, though.” Gladio grinned. “Aranea was doing some pretty heavy eying of you in it.”

 

Ignis sighed. Gladio grinned larger. Honestly, Iggy was such an easy target when it came to this stuff.

 

The door opened, drawing their attention as Noct slowly entered the room.  

 

Gladio was on his feet instantly, and so was Ignis.

 

In the years Gladio had known Noct, the kid had always been pale, but never this pale. He was shaken, almost vacant as he walked in a sort of trance.

 

“Noct?” Ignis’ brow furrowed in concern.

 

Gladio took a moment to launch a pillow at Prompto to wake him up. The blond flinched, squeaking as he wildly looked around.

 

“Oh, heya, Noct! What did Cor say?”

 

Noct didn’t say anything as he wandered over to his own bed and sat down, elbows propped on his knees as he faced all of them.

 

“Noct?” Ignis prompted again, stepping closer. “Is something wrong?”

 

The explanation that fell from Noct’s mouth was spoken with a raw edge of hollow despair, and Gladio felt his disbelief and rage bloom with growing speed at every further word that reached his ears. His soul felt as shaky as Prompto’s voice as he began to protest.

 

“But… there has to be another way! We can’t just let you–” Prompto cut himself off, looking as though he were about to cry as he bit his lip.

 

Noct shrugged, his eyes still glazed. “’Parently it was always part of the deal… Dad just–” Noct’s voice hitched. “My dad wanted me to have as normal of a life as I could, so he kept it from… almost everyone…”

 

“…I don’t accept this,” Ignis whispered dangerously, anger bright in his previously subdued and tired eyes. “I _can’t_ accept this.”

 

“Iggy…” Noct said softly.

 

“No, Noct!” Ignis snapped, way harsher than Gladio had ever heard him speak to Noct before. “Cor means to tell us that after all we have been through that you have no option but to surrender your life? I refuse to accept that! I will not lead you as a beast to slaughter!”

 

“Apparently that’s what we’ve been doing all along…” Gladio laughed humorlessly. “We just didn’t know…”

 

“Well, to hell with continuing it!” Ignis growled.

 

“Why not?” Noct said calmly again.

 

“Noct!” Prompto protested, horrified.

 

“The hell do you do mean ‘why not?’” Gladio shot back. “You suddenly got a death wish? Might be taking that emo phase of yours too far there, Noct.”

 

“No, I mean…” Noct shook his head, still looking at the floor rather than them. “You guys… You’ve always been ready to die for me…” Briefly his eye flicked up to Ignis before dropping again. “Why shouldn’t I return the favor eventually?”

 

“Because no one ever forced us to do so!” Ignis shot back. “We chose to guard you with our lives, and we naturally try to avoid actually dying in the process. Giving our lives is always a last resort to keep you safe – you should not be sacrificed with no alternative choices without your say or consent!”

 

“ _Did_ you choose?” Noct brought his hands together. “Prompto maybe did, yeah… but you two?” He finally looked up fully, directly at Gladio. “You were born into a family of Shields – when were you ever really given a choice?”

 

Gladio swallowed. He’d never even… He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t thought of being a good Shield as his life goal, but that was because his father had raised him to… Six, had he _really_ never had a choice?

 

“And you, Iggy?” Noct turned his attention to Ignis. “You were _six_ when you took your oath. Can you honestly tell me that you knew then what you were in for? That at that age you knew all the risks and made an informed decision?”

 

Ignis was speechless for a moment. “…I’ve never once regretted it.”

 

“Not what I asked,” Noct pointed out.

 

Ignis’ hands tightened into fists. “We will find a way to circumvent this.”

 

“Ignis–” Noct tried again.

 

“I will find a bloody way!” Ignis stalked towards the door, whipping around to face them. “Until your corpse is at my bloody feet, I will keep fighting and searching until I find a way to keep you alive!” And with that, he tore out the door, slamming it so hard behind him that Prompto visibly flinched.

 

Noct sighed, his shoulders slumping as he dropped his head into his hands and ran his hands through his hair.

 

* * *

 

 

Gladio didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t even bother to stay in bed. He wasn’t sure where Ignis had gone, but Gladio found himself sitting back at the table downstairs.

 

Ignis’ entire emotional status was fourteen different types of screwed up with the trauma he’d been through lately, but Gladio agreed with his overall outlook.

 

Hell, how could he not? His entire life he’d been raised to protect his Prince, King, and friend, and now he was just supposed to accept that there was nothing he could do while Noct walked to his death? Oh wait, yeah, there _was_ something he was supposed to do – _help_ Noct walk to his death. Because that was better.

 

“Can’t sleep?”

 

Gladio wasn’t surprised when his father’s voice reached him. His father was treading lightly – probably trying not to wake up the house – but he was hardly the epitome of stealth at the moment, even after the hospital and potions.

 

Gladio didn’t turn as his father joined him at the table. “Did you know? All this time?”

 

“Of course. The burden was hard enough for Regis to bear without having to do it alone. I often suspected that the stress of Noctis’ fate contributed to his decreasing health.”

 

Gladio shook his head. “Can’t imagine…”

 

“Nor can I.” His father pulled his chair out with a wince. “Acknowledging that your child might die in the line of duty one day and knowing that he will, when he is but six years old, are two very different matters.”

 

Gladio wanted to protest like Ignis. He wanted to scream that there had to be another way. But… if a King had almost fourteen years and couldn’t find a way to save his only son, what hope did Gladio have?

 

“How is Noctis handling things?” his father asked after Gladio didn’t say anything for a moment.

 

Gladio was wondering that too. Noct was reserved most times, but he didn’t control his temper very well. He’d seemed only about half present in the room. “Well, I can’t tell you what’s going on in that head of his, but he seems to be dealing with it calmly so far. Lot calmer than Ignis, that’s for sure.”

 

He couldn’t be sure, but he didn’t think his father’s grimace had anything to do with his injuries this time. “To think their roles used to be so reversed… One of Regis’ greatest regrets was not telling Ignis the truth, but he thought making him live with it was crueler. Particularly after the Tummelt Affair when Ignis’ report informed us just how far he was willing to go to protect the Crown.”

 

Gladio closed his eyes for a moment. He was prepared to lay down his life for Noct, but Ignis technically actually had. It was no wonder Ignis was an emotional wreck at the moment. He’d tried to commit suicide, been tortured, battled PTSD for years, and even left his friends when he needed them the most. All to protect someone who’d apparently always been doomed – and that someone was the closest person to him in the world. There were only so many times a man could take getting kicked while he was already down.

 

And all this led to a question that Gladio had been dreading and didn’t want to ask. He needed to know, though. “How many times did you try to… When you were with Loqi, did you ever try taking yourself out of the picture?”

 

His father gave him a soft nod. “I didn’t keep count. Somewhere around eight, I imagine. Loqi had anticipated my actions, though. I was never able to get it done fast enough with how close of an eye he was keeping on me.”

 

“Six, Dad…” Gladio rubbed a hand over his mouth.

 

His father settled a hand on his shoulder. “…I never imagined I would see you or Iris again. Despite my failings as a Shield, I’m glad I was wrong in that regard.”

 

“You took a bullet,” Gladio said flatly. “Not your fault more kept coming after that. Not like you could fend off the entire Empire, especially if what Cor told Noct about Ardyn is true. Nothin’ you could have done to save him in the end.” Gladio bit his tongue. That was… that was exactly what people were going to say to him.

 

“Perhaps,” was his father’s only reply, though, as he brushed the bandaged area of his neck where that damned brand was still sitting, untouched by potions.

 

“…Does it still hurt?”

 

“Not physically.”

 

“Guess it’s a good thing you always liked turtlenecks.”

 

His father snorted in amusement before falling into a low chuckle. Gladio started laughing too. He wasn’t even sure why. Nothing that had happened lately was even remotely funny. That was probably why their laughter was so short lived.

 

His father sighed again. “I wish you all had had more time to heal before this was thrust upon you.”

 

“The others need healing,” Gladio dismissed. “I don’t.”

 

His father locked eyes with him. “Your actions earlier would have me believe otherwise.”

 

Gladio looked away. “He had it coming.”

 

Clarus grunted. “I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same to Izunia if given the chance. I only ask that you guard your rage carefully. It could lead you to ruin.”

 

Gladio scoffed. “Aren’t we headed for that anyway? Didn’t think we’re getting much of a choice from what Cor told Noct.”

 

“…I see you _are_ carrying some resentment.”

 

Gladio tightened his fist atop the table. “You raised me my whole life for a duty you knew I could never succeed in.” And that wasn’t even putting into words the hardest part of all this. Things would have been a hell of a lot easier right now if Noct had stayed the horrible brat Gladio thought he was as a kid. But no… Noct was as far from that as one could get. He was Gladio’s _friend._ It may have been Gladio’s job to protect him as his Shield, but Gladio hadn’t thought of Noctis as job for probably close to a decade.

 

“You _can_ succeed. You can keep him safe until–”

 

“Until he offers himself up as a human sacrifice?” Gladio snapped.

 

“You act as though this turn of events is my preference or fault,” his father shot back. “Do you not think that Cor and I did everything possible to try and help Regis find another way?”

 

Gladio closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

 

“A common occurrence for this day and age.”

 

Gladio rolled his eyes even while they were still closed. “Do me a favor and quit being all wise and shit so I can stew in my anger.”

 

His father made a noise.

 

Gladio dropped his hand back to the table where it thumped lightly. “…I can’t give up yet. I know you guys probably tried everything, but I can’t just sit back and accept this without at least trying to find another way.”

 

His father smiled softly. Almost _pityingly_. “I’d expect nothing less.”

 

* * *

 

 

His father might have returned to bed, but Gladio still found himself unable to sleep. In fact, he was feeling too restless to even sit in the house. So he went for a walk, aimlessly wandering around the peaceful area for a long while.

 

Dawn was just beginning to break over the hill when he stumbled upon where Ignis had apparently disappeared to all those hours ago. He was seated on a rock, hunched over and looking exhausted. The tree nearest to him – if it could be called a tree anymore – had about a thousand pieces chopped and sliced out of it.

 

Gladio wandered over and took a seat next to him since the boulder was more than large enough. He didn’t speak for a few moments, trying to find the right words. “We’ll find another way. Somehow.”

 

Ignis took a breath that was surprisingly steady. Probably because he’d had time to vent all his anger and sorrow. “I fear all this secret keeping hasn’t left us with much time.”

 

“Yeah.” Gladio huffed. “Might have been nice to get the information a little sooner, even though I get why they didn’t tell us before.”

 

“What truly concerns me is how willing to accept this Noct seems.” Ignis rubbed one of his gloved palms.

 

Gladio shook his head. “I’m thinkin’ part of that’s shock, but… he _has_ always hated the idea of others laying down their lives for him. All his life he’s been told that _he_ has to be the one to survive no matter what, and he got pretty damn sick of it early on. He’s never _wanted_ his life to be worth more.”  

 

“But he is worth more… he always has been.”

 

Gladio grunted. “Listen, whatever happens… I’m not the best researcher, but I’ve got your back on this. We’ll save him. Whatever it takes.”

 

“Whatever it takes,” Ignis repeated.

 

For a moment, all Gladio could hear was the peaceful sound mix of nature. But then… something was humming.

 

He frowned. “That an engine?”

 

Ignis retrieved his phone from his pocket right then, his shoulders straightening. “Aranea.” He was on his feet in an instant.

 

Gladio smiled as he took off. Whatever Ignis and Aranea had, he hoped that it lasted. It was good to see Ignis enjoying something that was really his own, rather than something assigned to him.

 

* * *

 

Gladio stifled a yawn as he re-entered the house. He still didn’t want to sleep, but his body and mind were at odds.

 

The smell of food might change his body’s mind, though.

 

The table was once again crowded up with everyone – minus Cor and Ignis – as dishes of eggs and bacon were being passed around.

 

“Hey hey, Big Guy,” Prompto greeted, the falseness of his cheer borderline painful to hear.

 

“Hey,” Gladio returned.

 

Noct wordless kicked out a chair for him, his attention on something in his hands that he was fiddling with that didn’t look like food. He glanced up for only the briefest second. “You seen Specs?”

 

“Yeah, he’s out there.” Gladio held his tongue on the details. Iris and Talcott had no idea what was going on still, and he was too tired to even think about telling them at the moment. Iris had just gotten their dad back. Hearing that Noct was fated to die would kill that new happiness. “Where’s Cor?”

 

“Thought he heard something outside. Wanted to check it out.” His dad’s plate was full, but he was looking out the window rather than eating.

 

“It’s Aranea.” Gladio sat in his chair, pulling it in.

 

His dad relaxed subtly, reaching for a fork.

 

“Aranea?” Noct asked. “She already back?”

 

“Looks like.” Gladio made to grab the bowl of eggs that was nearby, but he hesitated upon getting a look at what Noct was messing with. He didn’t recognize the small device, or at least not with Noct’s hand half covering it. “What’s that?”

 

Noct didn’t look up. “It’s… a hearing aid. I picked it up in Lestallum.”

 

…Well, now _there_ was a surprise.

 

“It’s not a big deal,” Noct muttered in return to their stares.

 

“Right. _It isn’t_ ,” Gladio said. That’s what he’d been saying. It wasn’t a big deal, and it was something Noct needed.

 

A few minutes of silence passed where the only sounds were the clinking of dishes.

 

“What’s the deal with everyone being so gloomy this morning?” Iris asked.

 

“…Rough coupla days,” Noct supplied.

 

Thankfully, they were spared further questions by Cor, Ignis, and Aranea entering the house.

 

“Morning boys,” Aranea greeted casually.

 

“Hey, ’Nea,” Noct said.

 

“Hi!” Iris waved. “Nice to finally meet you!”

 

“Back at you.” Aranea smiled at her.

 

“You were gone for a while,” Clarus noted, speaking to Cor.

 

The barest hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Cor’s lips. “There was some discussion on Protocol Twelve-Twenty-Two.”

 

His father’s eyebrows lifted. “I see.”

 

_Protocol Twelve-Twenty-Two?_ Gladio frowned. Then he noticed how Ignis’ cheeks were a dusty pink and how Aranea smirked.

 

…Ohhh.

 

Gladio grinned. “Makin’ a habit of Protocol Twelve-Twenty-Two, ain’t ya, Iggy?”

 

Ignis turned a withering glare on him, and Gladio took a bite of eggs.

 

“I… don’t remember there being a Protocol Twelve-Twenty-Two?” Iris said.

 

“Yeah, I don’t either,” Prompto said, looking to Nyx, who Gladio knew had taught him a lot of the protocols. “Did I miss learning one?”

 

Nyx snorted. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

Noct made a strangled noise, obviously figuring it out. “Oh, Six, I did _not_ need to know you guys have a _making out_ cover code!”

 

…Well, there went any remaining subtlety.

 

Talcott choked on his eggs.

 

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose. Aranea just looked amused.

 

“If it helps, we only came up with it to cover for your parents on certain occasions,” Gladio’s father said casually.

 

“Oh my gosh, _no._ That’s worse! That’s _so much worse!_ ”

 

There were scattered bits of laughter around the table, and Ignis just looked relieved that the attention was off him.

 

Gladio sat back in his chair, observing the group with fondness. Noct might have regretted this conversion, but Gladio was going to take any break in their bleak circumstances that he could get at the moment. And he was going to make sure there were more of those moments to come. A lot more. As Noct grew to a ripe old age with Lunafreya at his side.

 

Noct wasn’t dying. Not on his watch.

 

Whatever it took.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …So apparently I can see the future because I wrote this before any of those Endgame trailers were out. lol


	48. The Glaive

 

It was honestly amazing how drastically their lives could swing from being okay to a hellish nightmare. Despite the horrific revelation that had been dropped on them – he was the Glaive Captain, why the hell had he not been told sooner? – the days following the events in Lestallum were relatively calm.

 

The rest of them had been quiet for a better part of the first day, but then Noctis had _ordered_ them to cheer up, and Prompto had taken that to heart, doing his best to lighten up the mood whenever he could. Aranea wasn’t far behind him, taking to her usual sass. By the time they set out on the boat to Altissia, spirits had been significantly lifted, though Nyx wasn’t surprised to find that Ignis in particular was more silent than normal.

 

Overall, the boat ride with the six of them – plus Cid, but he didn’t talk much – had been enjoyable. Granted, most things were when compared to Loqi’s torture prison.

 

At first, it was a new dynamic to adjust to, for sure. With Cor and Clarus and the others staying behind, Nyx felt like an outsider in many ways, but he knew he wasn’t the only one. Aranea clearly felt the same way and tended to either sit in a corner alone or close to Ignis. The longer they went, though, the more that seemed to fade.

 

Prompto was eager to show his photos off, and he seemed to have Aranea won over in a couple of hours, and Prompto had honestly had Nyx won over for years. It was sweet that he was making an effort to include them.

 

Obviously, they weren’t going to catch up with the years of friendship overnight, but a long-ass trip in that close proximity had been more than enough to break the ice.

 

So, overall, not bad.

 

Then came Altissia.

 

Damn was Altissia a hell of a city. Walls of water, fine foods, weaving boat rides through the center of the architecturally gorgeous pathways… On the surface, it seemed as though the Empire had left it untouched. Blatantly not the case after the First Secretary showed up, though she held no love for the Empire. Not that she seemed to care much for Lucis either. Lucky for them, though, Noct appeared to have taken all of Ignis’ lessons on diplomacy to heart, because he managed to somehow win her full trust.

 

They’d had a bit of a celebration after that – a game of cards where Ignis and Aranea thoroughly thrashed the rest of their asses – before Noctis practically kicked Ignis and Aranea out, forcing them on a date. It was actually nice.

 

Nyx should have known it was just the calm between the storms.

And what a storm it was that was upon them, Nyx thought. So far, his best stroke of luck today was that Ignis had narrowly avoided having another PTSD attack when the two of them had been thrown into the water via part of the bridge they were on collapsing. _Narrowly_. As in he was still on the verge of it once they’d pulled themselves ashore in some lower restaurant area.

 

“You n-need to go on ahead. I’ll c-catch up,” Ignis had said, using a wall to steady himself.

 

“Ignis–”

 

“Our King needs aid, and I’ll not be the reason he doesn’t get it!” The waver in his voice had vanished, a raspy sternness taking its place.

 

He was right. Noctis was their priority, of course.

 

And so Nyx had conceded to Ignis’ words, heading for the alter alone.

 

…Something that had just become unexpectedly far easier right after he almost died for like the ninth time.

 

“ _Go on! Beg for your life – just like that pathetic old servant back in Lestallum!_ ”

 

Loqi 2.0 – or _Caligo_ , Nyx believed his real name was – was really starting to grate on his nerves. What was it about these Imperials that they wouldn’t just shut up and try to kill him in blissful silence?

 

Nyx had managed to handle everything else thrown at him thus far today, but he wasn’t having much luck against Caligo’s damned Magitek alone and without magic.

 

And then he lucked out.

 

He was trapped, a whole stream of bullets headed for him. It was instinct to throw his dagger for a warp, even if he knew nothing would happen.

 

Except something did.

 

Nyx blinked as he slammed into the ground several feet from where he’d been.

 

The hell? How…?

 

Caligo’s gun followed him, and Nyx tossed his questions aside in favor of refocusing on the fight – a fight that was relatively short now that he had access to his magic again.

 

Nyx grinned, warping to the key parts of the machine that had previously been beyond his reach and slicing them apart with ease.

 

The Magitek fell, and Nyx warped back to the ground, flipping his dagger around as Caligo crawled from the wreckage.

 

Nyx didn’t get to finish him off, though, as someone else impaled him before Nyx got over to him.

 

Nyx sank back into his fighting stance as Ravus came into view, stalking towards him.

 

Well, someone was looking less crispy than the last time Nyx had seen him. And accompanied by a lot more MT’s.

 

But then Ravus plowed straight through an MT and slid in to cover Nyx’s back.

 

“You.” Ravus readied his sword as the MTs evidently realized he was not on their side. “You’re the one that guarded my sister before, yes?”

 

“Yeah – what about it?” Nyx narrowed his eyes at the closest MT on his side.

 

“I would think that would mean you’d continue to see her safe if possible – join me.”

 

…Well, why the hell not? Not like he wanted to fight the MTs _and_ Ravus. Maybe getting his arm burnt off had knocked some sense into the guy.

 

And so they finished the MTs and moved on, making a hell of a lot faster progress across the city than Nyx had been before.

 

He jogged alongside Ravus, tapping his earpiece. “Hey, Ignis, you got any ideas on how my magic just came back?” He probably wouldn’t, but if anyone out of their group did have a clue, it would be him.

 

“ _Your magic is what now?_ ” Prompto said.

 

“ _Is it Noct’s?_ ” Gladio asked.

 

“Negative.” Nyx warped, taking down another MT in their path. “Feels just like it did before with His Majesty’s.”

 

“ _Maybe the Princess’ doing?_ ” Aranea said. “ _What do you think, Ignis?_ ”

 

“ _Wait, Nyx, wasn’t Iggy with you?_ ” Prompto said.

 

“ _…Yeah, why are you asking him here?_ ” Gladio demanded.

 

Nyx sighed. “Bridge collapse dropped us in the water. He was all right, but he was having a little trouble. Told me to go on ahead. Give him a minute and he’ll probably answer.”

 

“ _You left him behind?_ ” Aranea snapped. “ _What the hell, Ulric?_ ”

 

Nyx gritted his teeth, his fists curling as he and Ravus dropped down to ground level together. Not far to the alter now. “I told you, he was fine – and my King comes first.”

 

Ravus scoffed and Nyx sent him a glare.

 

“ _Aranea…_ ” Gladio’s tone grew softer. “ _You know what Ignis would want. We’ll find him as soon as possible, but now we need to focus–_ ”

 

“ _Yeah, yeah, I get it, Muscle Head._ ”

 

Ravus tossed him a look. “Is your team having issues?”

 

“Nothing we can’t handle.” Nyx tapped his ear.

 

“Typical,” Ravus groused. “That boy of a king would have a lackluster following of men who are incapable of fulfilling their–”

 

Nyx’s dagger landed in front of Ravus, halting his pace as Nyx rounded on him. He’d had just about enough of this bastard taking potshots King Regis and Noctis. “Look, asshole, I’d like to see how _you’d_ hold up in these conditions if you’d been water tortured before you’d even reached your twenties.”

 

Instead of snapping back at him, Ravus actually paused. “…That is an unfortunate phobia to have in our current setting.”

 

“Yeah? No shit.” Nyx swiped his dagger back up and started walking again. “He’ll still get his job done. We just need to do ours.”

 

_Hang on, Highne– Noct._

He couldn’t– he _wouldn’t_ fail to protect someone again.

* * *

 

 

It was growing darker by the time they reached the alter. Harder to see, for certain, but that didn’t stop the two of them from booking it across the wet stone beneath their feet.

 

“Lunafreya!” Ravus called.

 

“ _Ravus?_ ”

 

A wave rivaling that of those caused by Leviathan washed over Nyx – one of relief. She sounded fine. And if she was fine, Noctis likely was too.

 

He and Ravus rounded the corner, finding not just Noctis and the Princess, but a third individual as well.

 

“Nyx!” Pelna shot up from where he was crouched beside the Princess, who was also kneeling, and an unconscious Noctis.

 

“Pelna…” Nyx reached him, clapping him on the shoulder. “Princess… It’s damned good to see you two.”

 

“Likewise.” The Princess spared him and her brother a look, but her attention was mostly on Noctis.

 

“He all right?” Nyx took Plena’s previous position of being crouched by her.

 

A look of concern marred her brow, but she didn’t seem _overly_ worried. “Yes. Or he will be, rather, but he’ll need to rest for a few days. We must get him out of here.”

 

“Sister–” Ravus started.

 

“Not now, Ravus.” She sent him a tired look. “I know what it is you would have me do, but can we please discuss it a time that is not this moment?”

 

Ravus pursed his lips. “…Very well. Best make haste in reaching safety, then.”

 

“ _Captain!_ ”

 

Oh, now there was even more relief. What a lovely and foreign feeling.

 

“Ignis,” Nyx greeted as he reached them. “Holdin’ up?” He looked okay. No shaking or glazed look in his eyes. …More of a smirk, really. Odd.

 

“Oh, quite well.” He practically sauntered up to them, not looking in the least bit concerned for Noctis. “I see His Majesty is having yet another difficult day.”

 

“His Majesty?” Nyx echoed with a frown. There was nothing wrong with that word choice, Nyx supposed, but it was just odd. Respectful as he was, Ignis always referred to Noctis as _Noct_. “You sure _you’re_ good, Ignis?”

 

Ravus swiped his sword out in the blink of an eye. “You. _Ardyn._ ”

 

What–

 

“Oh dear… was I that transparent?”

 

Ignis wasn’t Ignis. That clicked in Nyx’s mind just a moment before Ignis _grinned,_ his hand sweeping up and his face shifting to Izunia’s before he plucked the fedora from his head and bowed. He then swept one hand around, a blast of some kind of purple magic flying towards them all.

 

Having already been on edge, Nyx warped reflexively, narrowly making it out of the way. He whipped around just in time to se the magic split four ways – one section hitting where he’d just been standing and the other three heading for his comrades.

 

Ravus, also having been on guard a moment before the others, managed to dodge the blast headed for him, but the other two struck true, sending the Princess and Pelna collapsing to the ground.

 

“Lunafreya!” Ravus tried to reach his sister as a group of MTs swarmed them from behind Izunia, overwhelming the two of them before they had a chance to regroup together.

 

Nyx struggled, glaring daggers at Izunia as he was forced to the ground and restrained. Bastard.

 

“The game’s up, dear Captain.” Izunia smirked down at him as he made his way past him. “Though I will admit you’ve made a valiant effort at protecting the royal couple thus far.”

 

Nyx craned his neck, trying to keep the Chancellor in sight.

 

Izunia pushed Noctis over onto his back with a boot. “They make such a lovely pair, don’t you agree? The beloved, steadfast Oracle and the boy King who’s so intrepidly stepped into his father’s shoes! Oh, it just warms the heart!”

 

Nyx would have been further pissed off by those words, but he was too busy noticing that the damned Ring of the Lucii was a few inches from the Princess’ hand. She must have been holding it when she’d collapsed.

 

“I do hope our dear new King doesn’t become complacent, though. Marriage does lend itself to such an attitude at times.” Izunia moved over to the Princess.

 

Ravus began struggling in earnest against his captors. “You will leave her be, Ardyn!”

 

Izunia arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “Oh, will I?” A dagger flashed into his hand, and he sent another purple blast with his other hand when Ravus’ eyes flickered to lock onto the knife. His deterred attention gave him no chance to dodge Izunia’s attack this time, and Ravus was thrown back onto the ground, unconscious like the others.

 

Time seemed to slow for Nyx as his mind went into overdrive.

 

The Ring. Izunia hadn’t noticed it yet.

 

This bastard was once a King, and still carried the Crystal’s magic – magic that had been darkly twisted. Nyx knew he stood no chance against him with only the fraction of power he’d just regained.

 

His eyes flickered to his own dropped dagger. It was less than a foot from him. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

 

Nyx narrow his eyes, a calm clarity of what he had to do settling over him.

 

He would not fail in saving someone again.

 

He reached out internally, warping the short distance. It barely moved him, but it was enough to dislodge the MT’s hold on him. He rolled, dagger now in hand as he dropped and used his momentum to slide across the slick ground, snagging the Ring and placing himself between the Princess and Izunia.

 

“Aw. Ever protective, are we?” Izunia said.

 

Nyx hesitated only long enough to spare Ravus and his mechanical arm a glance. Then he squared himself, dropping his dagger from his hand and shoving the Ring onto his finger.

 

Izunia froze. No… it wasn’t just him. The rain had halted in place as well, and Nyx’s surroundings blurred with a blue haze until he was the only thing standing in a seemingly endless void of mist and navy-tinted darkness.

 

Well. His arm wasn’t being burnt off. Yet.

 

He tried to slow his breathing as he turned in a circle, looking around for any signs of… something.

 

“Show yourselves, Kings of Lucis.”

 

So maybe antagonizing them and demanding their attention wasn’t the best route, but these were their chosen saviors he was trying to protect.

 

There was a strange sound – almost like a muffled explosion as a massive, regal figure composed of blue light spawned into existence. And then another. And another.

 

“ _You call upon the wards of this world’s future, mortal._ ” The voice was laced with pure power, echoing through the endless expanse around them. “ _And if you come lusting for our power, you must first stand in our judgement._ ”

 

Lusting for power? Well, after Ravus and Luche, he could see how they might be expecting that.

 

“Judge away,” he said, still turning. He couldn’t tell which figure was speaking or which he should look at. “I’m only here to protect those you’ve chosen. How long will you do nothing whilst they keep ending up in harm’s way?” Anger coiled within Nyx. He was well past holding his tongue. The Kings had done _nothing_ when Insomnia burned, leaving them to fight and _die_ on their own. So many people. _His_ people. “Use your power!”

 

“ _You do not command us,_ ” the voice shot back. “ _Yours is not even royal blood._ ”

 

“That royal blood is about be spilled all over the ground if you don’t do something!” Nyx snapped.

 

“ _Lend him your ears._ ”

 

Nyx’s heart skipped a beat. He never thought he’d hear that voice again. “Your Majesty?” Six, did Nyx want to apologize for failing him so badly. If it weren’t for his _Glaive_ turning on them… But now wasn’t the time for all that.

 

“ _I have seen what this brave soul is prepared to do. Many times has he safeguarded the future at the risk of his own life._ ”

 

“ _His worth is of less matter than his will at present,_ ” a woman’s voice said. “ _The Chosen’s life hangs in the balance, and this warrior’s intent is pure._ ”

 

He already liked her better than the other guy. “Yeah. What she said.”

 

“ _…Very well,_ ” said the first voice. “ _But our boon does not come cheap._ ”

 

“ _If thou dost wish to save the King, a sacrifice must be made,_ ” the woman said firmly.

 

Nyx hissed shortly as the Ring began to burn his skin.

 

A sacrifice? After everything the others had gone through to save him…

 

…It was still worth it.

 

“Take what you will from me.” Nyx let out a slow breath, his gaze falling from their massive forms. “My life is nothing. Giving the future to those who want to see it… is everything.”

 

The King hummed. “ _You do not fear. If that sentiment is not false, then perhaps your worth and will are of equal measure._ ”

 

“ _The contract is forged. The Ring is now thine to control,_ ” said the Queen. “ _Go forth._ ”

 

And then the Ring flared again, eliciting a yell from Nyx as flames began to crawl up his arm and throat.

 

The pain grew, twisting and seeming to sear his very soul, but Nyx still managed to grin as the world returned to normal around him and the smirk dropped off Izunia’s face.

 

“Well… judged you worthy, have they?” he mused, conjuring up more dark purple magic in his hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx wheezed, his legs somehow numbly carrying him forwards as the blurred world around him swayed. His throat burned with every inhale and exhale, the slightest movement in his airways feeling like sharp gravel being dragged over burns. It made him not want to breathe, but he _needed_ to breathe.

 

He stumbled, crashing onto all fours just before he reached his unconscious comrades. He coughed repeatedly, each one like a punch to his gut with a branding iron.

 

Loqi should have taken some notes from the Lucii for his torture methods.

 

Nyx leaned back onto his knees, bringing up his trembling left hand and trying to pry the Ring off of it with his right. He fumbled, losing his hold on the Ring as soon as it had cleared his finger. There was a soft _plink_ nearby, muffled by the rushing blood in his ears.

 

Nyx heaved another scorching breath – his strength giving out and sending him the rest of the way to the ground. He barely felt the impact, blinking at the shapes that were in front of him.

 

Noctis… the Princess… Pelna.

 

They were safe.

 

He’d done it.

 

Black shoes appeared in his line of sight.

 

“…bloody reckless…”

 

That was all Nyx heard.

 

Yeah… yeah, he was, he supposed, but it didn’t matter.

 

They. Were. Safe.

 

_That_ was all that mattered, he thought.

 

He smiled, giving in to the pull of unconsciousness and drifting off as a blanket of peace settled over him.  

 

* * *

 

 

In all honesty, Nyx hadn’t expected to wake up again. Not in this world.

 

Sacrifice had seemed pretty straightforward.

 

But wake up he did, sun warming his face and making him blink as he dragged his mind back from the pit of sludge it seemed to have fallen into.

 

He instinctively tried to groan, but ended up choking instead, the same pain from before burning from the center of his chest and up his throat.

 

“Nyx?” A chair creaked nearby, and suddenly Pelna was at his side. He grinned briefly, but there was something not so jovial in his eyes. “Good to see you awake.” He held up his hand as Nyx was about to speak. “Don’t! Um… Don’t try to talk just yet, okay? The doctor said your vocal cords weren’t in the best shape. You need to let them heal.” Pelna’s expression pinched in concern as he briefly glanced down. “You need to let a lot of things heal.”

 

His tone was not inspiring confidence, and neither was his expression.

 

Nyx reached up to gently touch his throat, finding an unfamiliar texture there. Burns? Scars?

 

Hell, like he hadn’t had that before… Being alive at all was such a nice surprise he wasn’t even going to ask for an explanation. At least he’d avoided getting impaled again.

 

“Here.” Pelna moved over to the dresser – oh, they were in a room at the Leville – and then came back with a pen and notepad, offering them to Nyx.

 

Nyx snagged them, jotting down a question.

 

Pelna nodded immediately. “The three of them are fine. Ravus too. Noctis is still out cold, but Lunafreya says that’s just the aftereffects of everything he did in the battle.”

 

Nyx almost felt bad at being amused at the fact that the two of them were finally able to meet up again and Noctis was asleep. His amusement died quickly, though, when he realized Pelna was still hesitating about something.

 

Nyx frowned, trusting Pelna to read the question there without needing it written down.

 

“Um.” Pelna rubbed his jaw and then shook his head before dropping his hand and meeting Nyx’s gaze dead on. “Nyx, it’s been two days. We haven’t stopped looking, but… We can’t find Scientia…”

* * *

 

 

“I’m not having this conversation, Ravus!” Noctis snapped, shoving open the door to the room they had all been gathering in the last couple of days.

 

Nyx turned his attention away from the window as the two Princes stalked in, bickering again for what seemed like the millionth time already. Noctis had ordered Nyx to stay back in the hotel and rest, but everyone else had been scouring the city for Ignis before and since Noctis had woken up. The young Prince had gone directly from overjoyed at seeing the Princess to shoving out of bed and snapping at everyone to get moving across Altissia.

 

Gladio and the Princess were following closely behind Noctis and Ravus, looking wary while Aranea was behind _them_ and looking pissed. Prompto was hesitantly at the back of the pack, half using Pelna as a shield from the verbal battle that was going on.

 

“Delaying the fate of the world to search for one man is irresponsible!” Ravus snapped right back. “Your man is likely dead!”

 

Nyx rubbed his head. He could have sworn he’d seen Ignis in his last seconds before passing out, but his mind had been so muddled then… And, to top it off, they couldn’t find the Ring? It had been right there. He’d dropped it _right next to them all._

 

Noctis whipped around, glaring daggers. “So, if Luna was missing, you’d be fine leaving town?”

 

Ravus scowled. “I fail to see how my relationship with my sister–”

 

“She’s your _sister._ Ignis and I were raised together – he’s like my _brother._ ”

 

Ravus hesitated. “…Nevertheless. The fate of the world depends on you. Delaying your journey puts _everyone_ at risk! You must continue post haste!”

 

Noctis stared at him incredulously. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you in a hurry for me to _die?_ ”

 

The Princess gasped sharply. “Noctis, you…”

 

“Yeah… I _know._ ” His gaze hardened as he stared Ravus down. “I’ll do what needs to be done, but that doesn’t mean that the people I love have to suffer the same fate as me. I’m _not leaving without him._ ”

 

“Noct…” Gladio said softly, looking like he regretted everything in his life that had led him to this. “He does have a point…”

 

“What?” Noct demanded.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aranea strolled up to Gladio, eyes narrowed. “After all the hell he’s been through for the sake of you three, and you call off the search?”

 

“Of course I don’t _want to,_ ” Gladio growled back, turning to face Noctis instead and softening his voice. “Just… Noct… This is Ignis. Do you honestly think he wouldn’t be here with us if he were alive?”

 

Noctis looked like he’d been slapped in the face. “…He could be injured! In one of the medical relief areas they set up!”

 

“…We checked all of those,” Pelna muttered. “And the hospitals…”

 

“And if he didn’t make it to any of those and was still hurt… then by this point…” Gladio shook his head.

 

Noct was speechless for a moment.

 

Nyx jumped as Aranea slammed the door behind her. He hadn’t even realized she’d moved.

 

The Princess set a hand on Noct’s rigid shoulders. “Give her time…”

 

“No…” Gladio dropped his eyes to the floor. “She was only with us because of Ignis. She won’t stay without him.”

 

“ _Stop talking about him in the past tense,_ ” Noctis growled.

 

Nyx shoved out of his chair, snagging his notepad off the desk and heading out of the room after Aranea.

 

“Nyx?” Pelna called. “Hey, you’re supposed to be resting!”

 

Nyx waved him off, picking his pace up to a jog as he caught sight of Aranea disappearing around one of the hallway corners. She was angrily stalking, so it didn’t take him long to catch up to her with his faster gait. He tried to scribble down his one-word plea while he was on the move, finishing it just in time to snag her arm.

 

There was no way she hadn’t heard him coming, so she probably wouldn’t punch him.

 

…Probably.

 

She spun around, knocking his hand aside. “ _What?_ ”

 

He stepped back – just one step – and tore off the top piece of the notepad, offering it to her.

 

She definitely didn’t look to be in the mood for a conversation, but she snagged the note all the same, reading what he’d written.

 

_Stay._

 

Aranea scoffed, balling up the note and tossing it to the side. “What the hell for?”

 

Well, she was listening, at least. He quickly traded his pen to his other hand and scribbled another note.

 

_Where else would you go?_

 

She crumpled that up too, tossing it over her shoulder this time. “I don’t know. Wherever the hell I want. It doesn’t matter. I don’t… belong with this group.”

 

Nyx took his time on the next one, handing it over slowly.

 

_I didn’t belong in yours at first. You do belong now._

 

She dropped that one straight to the floor with a sigh, looking ready to skewer something or cry or both.

 

Mulling over his options, Nyx took a chance.

 

_This was his life–_

 

She grabbed the note from him before he was even done, ripping it in half and throwing the parts away dramatically. “Let’s get this straight – there will be no past tense references to him until I see a body, got it?”

 

Nyx nodded slowly, starting again.

 

_He has dedicated his whole life to this. If you’ve got no plans, why not fight for what he believes in?_

 

The paper wrinkled under her hand, but she didn’t crumple it up all the way.

 

“…What the hell,” she muttered finally. “Not like my life is going anywhere else.”

 

Nyx wanted to count that as a victory, but he couldn’t. Some of them were in denial still. Others, less so. But… the impact hadn’t really hit any of them yet, and he couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this would be once it did.

 

There was going to be a meltdown.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Not as much of a meltdown as I had at the theater during Endgame. *LOUD SOBBING*


	49. The Guard

 

Everything was awful. Terrible. Appalling. Atrocious. Yeah, one of those fancy words that Ignis would use _if he were there_. And everyone was in a horrible mood because of that in some way or another.

 

Prompto sighed, leaning his head against the train’s window. The last few weeks had been _hell_.

 

Leaving Altissia had been the last thing Noct wanted to do, but eventually he’d had to cave. Like Gladio had pointed out, if Ignis was alive, he’d find a way to contact them eventually. And if not… well, delaying saving the world just to find a body was… yeah.

 

Prompto swallowed, biting his lip as he tried not to think about that last bit. If he did, he was going to cry, and he really didn’t want to do that with Ravus sitting next to him. Actually, Prompto was almost positive that the only reason Noct hadn’t broken down yet was because their group was suddenly huge and having so many people around was keeping him busy.

 

He’d been unusually quiet since they’d left Altissia, and it was pretty obvious he was still there mentally. Not even finally having Luna around was enough to cheer him up. At least he had her now, though. She was being pretty understanding, too – hovering and being supportive and stuff. Unlike Ravus, who was using every excuse to glare at Noct, which in turn was making Gladio glare at him. Then there was Nyx, who still couldn’t talk, so he was just sitting back and watching everything. And then Pelna was watching Nyx to make sure he was okay. And Aranea might as well have muted herself for all the talking she’d done.

 

…There was just a lot of tense and awkward staring all around. Prompto couldn’t even bring himself to crack a joke to try and lighten the mood.

 

Prompto wanted to keep telling himself that Iggy was alive. He really, really did. But it had been weeks.

 

His teeth sank further into his lip, the pain distracting him just a bit.

 

There was still a chance, right? Maybe it was a small one, but it _was_ a chance.

 

…Right?

 

* * *

 

 

The trip into Cartanica was… messy, to say the least. Like, _literally,_ because everyone seemed to be taking out their frustration on the wildlife. Noct, Aranea, and Ravus in particular. The rest of them were honestly just staying out of the way. Gladio was hanging by Noct, yeah, but he was more shadowing him than anything since he was leaving as much of the work as possible to Noct.

 

On the bright side, they got the Royal Arm super quickly and destroyed some salad monster in, like, zero time flat. The thing probably would have given them trouble before, but with them, Luna and Ravus, Aranea, and Pelna and Nyx – who had their magic back – the thing kind of just got annihilated.

 

Which then led to the most awkward campout Prompto ever had the misfortune of being part of. Way too many people for such a small rock, first off. Despite being outdoors, Prompto was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. Apparently, so was Aranea, because she muttered something about getting some less crowded air and stalked off.

 

It wasn’t long, afterwards that Pelna turned in, and then Nyx at Noct’s nudging that he still needed extra rest while he was healing. Prompto could have sworn Nyx rolled his eyes at that, but he’d gone along with it anyway.

 

Ravus was next, reminding them that _all_ of them needed rest for what was to come as he turned in.

 

When it became clear that Noct wanted some time alone, the rest of them also agreed to settle down, albeit reluctantly.

 

And while settling in he might have done, Prompto sure wasn’t sleeping. The firelight gave him a clear view of Noct’s silhouette for a while. And then Noct pushed out of his chair, disappearing from sight.

 

Prompto wasn’t sure how long he stared at the spot, waiting for Noct to return. It felt like a long time.

 

“He’s been gone for a while…” Gladio muttered. Prompto had been wondering if he was really asleep.

 

“Yeah…”

 

They were quiet again for a moment, and then they both started getting up. They moved as quietly as they could, making sure not to wake up Nyx as they exited the tent.

 

“Which way do you think he went?” Prompto wondered.

 

“I saw his shadow go that way,” Luna whispered, unzipping the door to the tent she was in and slipping out before pointing. She wasn’t even in any night clothes. Obviously she hadn’t been sleeping either.

 

“Let’s start with that, then.” Gladio sighed, reaching the edge of the haven and dropping down.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t actually hard for them to find Noct, really. He was making enough noise that they just needed to be in the general area to hear him murdering the crap out of some imps.

 

…Seriously. Imps. He was killing imps with the sword they’d just gotten from the tomb. That was more than a little overkill.

 

…Except he didn’t look like he was doing too hot. Despite the nippy night air, Noct was drenched in sweat and looked absolutely exhausted. He glared out past his messy bangs at the imps that were circling him, his arms shaking a bit as he held his sword. His breathing didn’t look, like, super steady either.

 

He cut down the imp closest to him, a shudder seeming to pass through him with the strike. He staggered briefly, regaining his footing just in time to ward off another imp that had jumped at him.

 

“Noct!” Gladio rushed forwards, cutting down an imp in his path as Prompto fired off a shot into another.

 

Noct’s shoulders slumped with a sigh, and he closed his eyes as they finished the enemies off. “…I had that.”

 

“Yeah, you would have if you weren’t being careless.” Gladio dismissed his sword, gesturing to the one Noct was holding instead as he trudged through the sloppy ground over to him. “What the hell, Noct? You know what those things do to you. You could have handled these daemons easily without that!”

 

Noct shrugged, sword still in hand. “Needed to test my limits.”

 

Gladio made a noise. “Well, you found them. We’re in a dangerous environment – what if something bigger shows up late and you’re worn out?”

 

Noct shrugged again. “Couple hours’ sleep and I’ll be fine.”

 

“A couple?” Prompto repeated incredulously. “Dude, you’re a sloth on your best day!”

 

“C’mon, Noct.” Gladio made a dismissive motion at the sword, clearly wanting Noct to put it away. “This isn’t good for you.”

 

“Not good for me?” Noct’s laugh was hollow and bitter. “Not sure that’s really a problem anymore. Gonna be dead soon anyway, right?”

 

Luna flinched liked she’d been hit. Gladio gaped. Prompto wanted to throw up. Noct had been acting all brave and ready, but Prompto had known he had to be hurting more than he was letting on.

 

“Noct…” Prompto said weakly. What could he even say?

 

Tears were welling in Noct’s eyes, but he was frantically blinking in an effort to keep them back. “I was dealing with it. I was. But Ignis…” His lip wobbled, and he turned away from them. “After all he’d been through…” His sword swung suddenly, cutting the top of a bush clean off. “If I’m really some sort of savior, _why can’t I save the ones I love?_ ” His voice rose, and he struck again. “ _Why did it have to be him?_ ” Another strike. “Why did it have to be _like this?_ ”

“Noct, stop!” Gladio rushed Noct, grabbing around the upper part of his arms and pinning them to his body.

 

Noct struggled against him, thrashing around in an attempt to free himself.

 

“Stop…” Gladio repeated.

 

Noct’s struggles weakened.

 

“Stop…” Gladio said one last time, his voice barely a whisper.

 

The sword flashed, disappearing back into the Armiger as Noct slumped in Gladio’s hold, his whole body wracking with sobs.

 

Gladio let them sink to their knees gently, keeping his hold on Noct as he continued weeping. Prompto’s own eyes clouded with tears that were quickly beginning to dampen his cheeks, and it was then that he noticed the wet glimmer in Gladio’s eyes as well.

 

Luna approached them slowly, rounding to Noct’s front and settling her hand on his shaking shoulder before folding her legs beneath her and leaning her forehead against his own. Prompto’s legs seemed to move of their own accord, and he plopped down on Noct’s free side, dropping his head onto his other shoulder.

 

Vaguely, Prompto noticed the sloshing footsteps behind him over their crying, so he wasn’t too surprised when Aranea joined their depressed little huddle. Couldn’t have been hard for her to find them with all the noise they’d been making.

 

What a mess they were now…

 

The Crownsguard’s supposed finest, the King of Insomnia, the Oracle, and a badass and feared mercenary… They were all just a bunch of homeless people with dead friends.

 

* * *

 

 

It was pretty easy to tell Noct was still really upset the next day. He was sullen all the way back to the train, not even giving any effort into snipping back at Ravus.

 

“It was you, wasn’t it? What the hell did you do to Ignis? Did you just decide to off him like you did my dad?”

 

…And then there was the whole thing where he’d chased Prompto across the train and, like, _tried to stab him._

 

It had to be Ardyn. The others had said something about him being able to do illusion stuff, but Noct obviously hadn’t been thinking about that, and Prompto hadn’t thought of it until they’d already been separated.

 

He needed to say something when he found Noct again – just needed him to think for a sec.

 

…If Prompto survived the next few minutes, that was. And his chances weren’t exactly great at the moment.

 

His gun was held firm and steady in his hands, despite the vibrations of the train roof beneath his feet and the spike of fear that was sending his heart into overdrive. The gun wasn’t going to do him any good. He knew that. If Ardyn really wanted him dead, he couldn’t stop him. Well. Maybe he could temporally, but it wouldn’t last.

 

But it didn’t matter. Prompto wasn’t just going to stand down and take it. He was a Crownsguard, dammit. The freaking Immortal had commended him and gotten him sworn in early. He was gonna stand his ground.

 

“Stop,” Prompto ordered, his gun aimed at Ardyn’s stupid smug face.

 

Ardyn held his hands up, but his expression was anything but surrender. “Ahhh, Prompto… You know, we haven’t gotten to spend much time together – I can’t imagine what I’ve done to warrant this kind of reaction from you! That Glaive of yours very much made his own choice to put that Ring on.”

 

“Dude, you killed my best friend’s dad,” Prompto said incredulously. He barely resisted asking Ardyn if he knew where the Ring was, since apparently everyone else that had been at the alter didn’t know. Surely Ardyn would be rubbing it in their faces if _he_ had it, though, wouldn’t he?

 

Ardyn shrugged, still keeping his hands up. “Just resolving an old men’s squabble. You’re a bit young to know the details. You could ask your dear old dad if you’re curious, though.”

 

Prompto blinked. “Huh?” His dad? What would his dad know? Plus his dad was dead too… Cor had managed to confirm that and told him weeks back.

 

“I must say, it’s a mystery to me how much more chipper you are in comparison to your… _siblings._ ”

 

Prompto sucked in a breath. Siblings? He didn’t have… Ardyn wasn’t talking about his adoptive father…

 

“ _Prompto!_ ”

 

Noct flashed into place, knocking the gun from Prompto’s hand and swiping at him with a strike that Prompto narrowly avoided.

 

…Oh, _crap._ He was falling.

 

Prompto waved his arms, trying to regain his balance.

 

“Highness, stop!”

 

And then suddenly Pelna was there, blinking into place and snagging Prompto’s hand.

 

Too late.

 

Pelna’s eyes widened as Prompto’s weight pulled him off the train too.

* * *

 

 

Prompto cursed the cold for about the fortieth time that hour as he tried to keep trudging through the snow, his teeth chattering away. The warmer clothes he’d pulled out of the Armiger really didn’t seem to be helping – the snow and wind were cutting through them just as much as they were cutting off the phone signal. He and Pelna were on their own, making slow progress and having no way to tell Noct they were alive. If they were even going to be alive much longer.

 

Six, they couldn’t put Noct and the others through that too, and just after Ignis… He had to be freaking out right now.

 

Prompto stumbled, his knees hitting the cold ice painfully.

 

“Prom!”

 

Prompto sighed shakily as Pelna grabbed his arm, gently pulling him back to his feet. The Glaive conjured up a fire with his free hand, holding it close to them both.

 

“C’mon, Shortshot.” Pelna tugged him, forcing him to keep moving. “We’ve both been through worse than this.”

 

Prompto really wasn’t sure about that. Things had sucked before, yeah, but at least he’d been in control of his limbs then. He could barely feel anything right now.

 

He leaned towards the fire, trying to soak up as much heat as possible before Pelna had to put it out again to save his energy.

 

And so they trudged on, fighting the wind and snow as they staggered in what was hopefully the right direction.

 

Prompto shivered, his ears beginning to buzz.

 

“Oh, _shit,_ ” Pelna hissed.

 

…That buzzing was not his ears.

 

Prompto summoned his gun, blinking repeatedly as he tried to aim. Crap, he could barely even feel the gun, and his arms were shaking.

 

MTs began dropping from the ship above them, and Plena vanished from Prompto’s side, sloppily taking out of a couple of them with some jerky, awkward dagger strikes.

 

Prompto fired off a couple shots. They missed their precise marks, but at least they hit the MTs somewhere.

 

Prompto was slammed to the ground suddenly, a sharp pain in his back. He hadn’t realized there was an MT behind him.

 

“Prom!” Pelna’s blurry figure tried to get to him, but an MT shot something at him that sent him to the ground, where he started convulsing.

 

Prompto’s vision went dark.

* * *

 

 

“Prom? Come on, kid…”

 

Prompto blearily dragged his eyes open. Well… wherever they were, at least it was warm. And they weren’t dead.

 

Prompto groaned, pushing himself up from where he was lying on his stomach. “Wha happen?”

 

Pelna stood from his crouch. “Looks like they threw us in some sort of prison, though it’s not exactly a cell… I looked around a bit before I woke you up. Only one door out, and it’s locked by some electronic pad. Try calling something from the Armiger, would you?”

 

Still groggy, Prompto pushed himself up and tried to call his gun. Nothing happened. Prompto scowled. “What gives?”

 

Pelna sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, it’s not just me losing my magic again… They must be blocking us somehow.”

 

…Oh, great. Still… not dead, and– 

 

Prompto gasped, yanking his sleeve up to cover the code on his arm. Where the _hell_ was his armband? No, no, no, he’d worked way too hard for everyone to find out and hate him now.

 

“Prom? You okay?”

 

Prompto swallowed, looking to Pelna and forcing a smile. “Uh, yeah! I mean, we’re kind of prisoners, but other than that…” He laughed nervously.

 

Pelna stared at him blankly. “…Right. Well, maybe we can figure out some way to get through this door.” He turned away, and Prompto followed him over to the door, relieved. “Don’t suppose you’re hiding some mad hacking skills good enough to break through Imperial security, are you?”

 

“Uhhh…” Prompto reached out to the panel that was there. Yeah, this looked a little beyond his phone ticking–

 

The scanner thing flashed green at him.

 

“ _Scanning production code._ ”

 

Prompto jumped back.

 

“Whoa! What did you do?” Pelna asked.

 

“I-I…”

 

“ _Unit 05953234 confirmed._ ”

 

The door hissed, sliding open.

 

“ _Warning: this unit has been compromised. Initiating retrieval of compromised unit._ ”

 

“What the _hell?_ ” Pelna scowled.

 

“She still remembers you, after all these years.”

 

Pelna whipped around, grabbing Prompto’s arm and yanking him to stand behind him as Ardyn appeared.

 

“More games, Chancellor?” Pelna asked.

 

Ardyn smirked like usual, strolling towards them with a dagger in hand, which he tapped the blade of against his other palm. “Oh, this isn’t a game, dear boy. This is truth.”

 

“I’m sure it is–”

 

Ardyn cut him off by pushing the flat side of the dagger against Pelna’s chest and then letting go, leaving it in Pelna’s hands. Pelna blinked, but then turned, keeping Prompto behind him as Ardyn moved past them.

 

“Although to most this compound is known only as the first Magitek Production Facility, birthplace of the myriad Magitek troopers and daemons the Empire holds dear, to _you,_ this place should have some sentimental value.” Ardyn paused, conjuring a gun to hand as he turned to face them again. “After all, it is your home sweet home.”    

 

…No. No, this couldn’t be happening…

 

“The hell are you talking about?” Pelna frowned.

 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Ardyn said coolly, tossing the gun to Prompto, who barely caught it in his shock. “Though I do wonder what you’ll have to say once you figure it out. Perhaps the estimable Chief Besithia will help heal that broken heart of his once you do.”

 

“Besithia?” Pelna repeated, obviously recognizing the name.

 

“Who’s that?” Prompto asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

 

Ardyn made a noise. “Oh, how quickly they forget.” Ardyn raised a hand, waving his finger at Prompto. “But fear not: I’ve no doubt a reunion would refresh your memory.”

 

“Reunion– hey!”

 

Ardyn was gone.

 

Prompto swallowed. Pelna had put himself between Prompto and Ardyn. He’d trained with Prompto – given him tips and taught him tricks.

 

The insecurities that Prompto had mostly buried years ago began crawling back into his brain.

 

How would Pelna react if he found out the truth?

 

* * *

 

 

“…Well, that was messed up,” Pelna noted, sitting back from the fire he just started in the cave they’d managed to find. He glanced over at Prompto, who’d been silently hugging his knees in misery for the last few minutes. “You okay, kid?”

 

Prompto looked up in bewilderment. “Am I ok– don’t… Don’t you care that, I’m… I’m…”

 

“The clone of a man who’s clearly missing more than a few of his upstairs marbles?” Pelna said bluntly, crossing his legs. “Well, I’m positive that was about a thousand times more horrifying for you to find out than me, so…”

 

Prompto stared at him. “But… you…”

 

“…Am also not from Insomnia, in case you’ve forgotten.”

 

“But, I’m a Niff!” Prompto shrieked. Why wasn’t Pelna freaking out about this? Why didn’t he hate him? “I’m the reason you had to leave your home and join the Glaive in the first place!”

 

Pelna was staring back at him with a raised eyebrow. “Prom… you weren’t even raised here. You were brought to Insomnia as a _baby._ ”

 

“But…” Prompto didn’t even know what to say.

 

“…Oh, kid, what were you expecting? For me to grab a pitchfork and a torch?” Pelna reached out and nudged his arm. “Come on… I don’t give a rat’s ass where you’re from, and neither does anyone else. You’re a good kid, a great friend, and, frankly, a terrific Crownsguard. Recommended by the Immortal himself, remember? And there’s no way he didn’t know your past when he did that.”

 

Prompto sucked in a breath. He was right. No way Cor would have let him in the Guard or even near Noct without a serious background check. It would have been _somewhere_ on record for him to see.

 

“Heeey, there’s some common sense I see on that face of yours,” Pelna teased.

 

Prompto half-laughed, half-cried.

 

All his life, he’d been worried about… nothing.

 

…Well. Okay, not nothing. His nutter of a bio-dad was still kind of around for them to take care of, but that beat his friends hating him.

 

Prompto’s relieved smile faded as quickly as it had come.

 

He wished he’d told Ignis before they lost him. Maybe if he’d confided in him, Ignis would have done the same in return about all the crap he had going on.

* * *

 

 

Prompto was getting real sick of Ardyn’s games.

 

Seriously. No sooner had he and Pelna dealt with his crazy bio-dad and set off to try and find the others than had Ardyn popped up _again_ and hit them both with his stupid purple magic.

 

“ _I’m beginning to gather quite the collection…_ ”

 

When Prompto awoke this time, he was alone. And restrained by some sort of pretty terrifying machine.

 

He took a deep breath, looking around as best he could as he tested the strength of the bonds around his wrists.

 

…Stupid. They were metal. What was he expecting, for them to be breakable?

 

“Pelna?” he called.

 

Nothing.

 

He was really alone this time.

 

He sniffed. Nope. Nope, he was not gonna cry. He was not gonna freak out.

 

“Pelna…” His voice cracked, his breathing rate kicking up as he yanked against his bonds.

 

Okay, maybe he was going to freak out a little, but Six, was he worried. What if Ardyn…

 

Oh, Six, Prompto did not want to lose Pelna too. Pelna had been such a supportive, older-brother-type friend to him, kinda like Gladio and Iggy. He’d practically adopted Prompto after their first meeting in the Citadel, ruffling his hair and promising to teach him a couple of tricks if he wanted.

 

Why had Ardyn separated them?

 

…No. Never mind why. That didn’t change anything.

 

Prompto closed his eyes, slowing his breathing.

 

Didn’t matter why at the moment. He just needed to worry about where, and how he could get there.

 

“Get it together, Crownsguard…”

 

He’d been trained for this. Nyx and Pelna had devoted a whole week to helping him learn how to escape different types of restraints once. He knew what to do.

 

…He really didn’t _want_ to do it, but he could.

 

He took another deep breath, making sure his tongue was out of the line of being bitten as he dug his thumb into the metal cuff.

 

…This was so much easier when Pelna had done it for him.

 

_Suck it up,_ he told himself.

 

Right. He’d had worse.

 

Get it over with.

 

Prompto twisted his wrist, pressing against the strong metal cuff in a particular way.

 

_Frick, frick, frick, crap, shit, son of a bitch!_

 

Try as he might, he wasn’t able to completely muffle his scream as he dislocated his thumb. He kept his teeth pressed closely together, breathing as steadily as he could, and he slowly pulled his throbbing hand through the metal cuff. He then brought his wrist over to the scanner that was on one of the clamps around his ribs.

 

Like before, the scanner flashed green, and Prompto grunted as he was suddenly dropped to the floor. He shifted mid fall, managing to land on his forearms in a way that didn’t put weight on his hand.

 

…Wow. Okay. That had worked.

 

“Thanks, guys…” Prompto muttered. He was really going to have to thank both of them when he got out of this.

 

Relocating his thumb wasn’t hard. Just more pain. But he did it. Whoo.

 

Now he needed to get out of here and find Pelna.

 

The door to his cell was also only locked by one of those code things, so that wasn’t a problem.

 

Really… this was actually kind of nice. He’d kept his stupid code covered his whole life. It was about dang time it was good for something after all the pain it had been.

 

Resisting the urge to run, Prompto quietly made his way down the hall of cells, vaguely creeped out that there were some dead daemons in some of them. Ugh. Why? Couldn’t they, like, clean the cells or something?

 

But there might be something useful in one of them. He had full access, so it would be good to at least check.

 

The cells were set up in a lower-case t pattern, and Prompto found nothing down one of the branches. Waste of time that he probably didn’t have.

 

Still… he’d check the other one to be sure. Not like they were really long–

 

Prompto stopped dead at the end of the second hall of cells, a gasp escaping him.

 

Holy crap, there was a person in the last cell. Who was holding a _handstand_ position against the wall. What the–

 

Wait.

 

“ _Iggy?_ ” Prompto blurted out, forgetting entirely that he’d been trying to stay quiet.

 

Ignis’ eyes flickered open, clear and focused and very intimidating even with him upside-down.

 

Before even thinking about it, Prompto waved his arm in front of the scanner, yanking the door to the cell open as tears of joy sprang to his eyes. “Six, Iggy, we thought you were dead!”

 

Ignis calmly shifted, planting his feet back on the ground and smoothly rising back to his feet. He regarded Prompto quietly.

 

Prompto’s grin dropped. “Iggy? Are you okay? Oh my gosh, they didn’t torture you again, did they?” …Wow, way to be subtle and thoughtful. Great job. He inwardly rolled his eyes at himself.

 

“So, it’s Prompto this time, is it?” Ignis said coolly. “Do you honestly believe that I’ll fall for this?”

 

…Wait. Oh no… Ignis thought he–

 

Prompto yelped as Ignis’ daggers appeared in his hands and he drove one towards him.

 

Prompto barely blocked the blow. “Iggy!”

 

What the hell? How come Ignis had _his_ weapons?

 

Ignis wasted no time in attacking again, the vicious speed he was known for enabling him to slice a gash across Prompto’s forearm.

 

“Iggy, stop! It’s _me!_ It’s really me!”

 

He twisted, cleanly avoiding the next couple of strikes and solidly blocking the next two.

 

This was so not his area of expertise, no matter how much Pelna and Nyx had drilled him on it.

 

Prompto fell back, retreating out of the cell as fast as he could. He ducked to avoid the dagger that Ignis chucked at his head, but then froze when he realized the dagger hadn’t fallen back into the Armiger.

 

Ignis scowled at it too, his free hand flexing in what was likely an attempt to call the weapon back.

 

It didn’t work.

 

Prompto dived for the knife, swiping it off of the floor and bringing it up to deflect Ignis’ next blow.

 

…Ardyn had so set this up. He was probably watching on his cameras while munching on a bowl of popcorn.

 

Prompto winced as Ignis managed to nick his thigh, cutting another gash there.

 

Okay, defense was _not_ working.

 

Prompto whipping a spinning kick around, forcing Ignis back a few steps.

 

Ignis glared at him – dear Astrals, that was terrifying – and flipped his dagger around, readying it again. “Cut above the usual disguised MTs, are you?”

 

The blow Prompto felt to his stomach at that was way worse than the cuts Ignis had given him. Ignis didn’t… He didn’t mean that. Ardyn had probably thrown a bunch MTs at him that looked like people he cared about.

 

…It still hurt.

 

“Iggy… Look, I’m–”

 

Ignis was on him again, and it took everything Prompto had not to be overwhelmed by the onslaught. Block, block, clash, block, dodge–

 

Shit!

 

Prompto staggered back, hand pressed to his ribs where Ignis had just landed a particularly deep slice. His cheek was stinging too.

 

“Iggy, please!” Prompto dropped his dagger. He couldn’t beat Ignis at his own game. Fighting him was hopeless. “It’s me, I swear… I-I love photography and chocobos–”

 

Ignis pounced, driving Prompto to the ground and placing his blade against his throat as he grabbed the front of his shirt. “Anyone could’ve gotten that information. You’d best do better if you don’t want me to ruin another of your toys, Ardyn!”

 

Prompto’s lips quivered as he tried to come up with something only he and Ignis would know. “Y-you thought my parents were abusing me just before I joined the Guard!”

 

Ignis paused, blinking.

 

Small things. He needed really small things that only they would know or remember.

 

“The n-night after the first time we faced Loqi, Noct t-talked you into p-playing Until Dawn. He live-texted Gladio r-reactions, b-but Noct got my phone I l-lost, so I heard about it later.”

 

Ignis’ grip on his shirt loosened, the hard look in his eyes ebbing away.

 

Just a little more…

 

Ignis tightened his grip again. “Pelna’s fiancée’s gaming username – what’s it a reference to?”

 

“Death Note,” Prompto said instantly. “The character’s real name is Nate Rivers, but he goes by Near and N.”

 

Ignis released him, withdrawing his dagger as horror dawned on his face. “…Prompto?”

 

Prompto shakily nodded. “…Hi.”

 

Ignis pushed off of him before helping him up. “My word… I… Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

 

“Nothin’ bad,” Prompto tried to dismiss.

 

Ignis was looking at the cut on his face with a whole bucket of guilt on his shoulders.

 

“H-how many times did Ardyn try to trick you?” Prompto wondered. Ignis hadn’t even considered that Prompto was real at first.

 

Ignis shook his head. “I… didn’t keep count.”

 

So, a lot.

 

“It’s cool, Iggy.” Prompto clapped him on the arm. “I get it. I’m just happy _you’re_ okay! What happened in Altissia?”

 

Ignis gesture tiredly before stooping down to pick up the dagger Prompto had dropped. “The Crystal is here. Let’s search for it while we talk.”

 

The Crystal? Here? “Oh! Yeah, let’s do that!”  

 

Ignis offered him the second dagger. “Best we both stay armed.”

 

“Right-o.” They fell into step with one another as they headed down the narrow hallway and out of the cell area.

 

“You said you thought me dead…” Ignis said lowly. “Are the others all right?”

 

…Ohhhh boy, that was a loaded question

 

“Well. Um. Everyone’s alive.”

 

Ignis shot him a look. “…I’m not certain that statement could have sounded any less reassuring.”

 

Prompto winced. “Sorry. I just mean… Everyone was taking losing you really hard.”

 

Ignis sighed. “I feared that would be the case. Nyx is recovering physically, at least, I hope?”

“He’s… doing okay. Like, he’s back in action and stuff, but– wait, hey! How’d you know he was hurt?” They rounded another corner.

 

“I _did_ make it to the alter,” Ignis clarified. “It was there that Ardyn ambushed me, shortly after I’d checked on the others.”

 

“…Oh, man. We were so close!”

 

“Quite.”

 

* * *

 

 

Finding the thing that was jamming their weapons wasn’t really hard. Apart from being the Crystal itself, it really couldn’t have been more obvious – a big locked room with zappy stuff channelling into it. Yeah, not so subtle. The door, though… Well, Prompto could get through it easy enough, he was just reluctant to. Now that Ignis knew he wasn’t an illusion, he’d definitely have some questions about how he could magically unlock doors with his arm.

 

Even after Pelna’s dismissive attitude towards the whole thing, Prompto was nervous. Pelna wasn’t from Insomnia anyway. What if Ignis _did_ care more about that kind of thing? …Well, that didn’t really sound like Ignis, honestly, but… ugh.

 

“There must be a way inside…” Ignis was looking around the scanner at the door, inspecting it.

 

Prompto sighed, squaring his shoulders and strolling up to the scanner, where he held his arm out. Like before, his code briefly glowed, and the door opened a moment later.

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow at him, glancing at his wrist and then back up to his face.  

 

“So… as it turns out… I’m from Niflheim…” Prompto murmured.

 

“Hm.” Ignis gave him a short nod. “I suspected as much.”

 

Prompto blinked. “Wait, _what?_ ”

 

Ignis’ mouth twitched in amusement. Freaking _amusement._

 

“You recall when I… procured the files the Crown had on you due to my suspicions about your parents?”

 

…He had to be kidding. “Yeah…”

 

“Well…” Ignis crossed his arms. “Much to my confusion, I was denied access to information they had on you prior to your adoption. I found it odd, to say the least, but I also found it to be none of my business. But then the Marshal showed up on my doorstep later that night and ordered me not to look further into the matter. Borderline _threatened,_ even.”

 

Prompto’s mouth fell open. So, Cor hadn’t only known, but he’d tried to keep his secret for him. Even from Ignis.

 

“…But you kept looking anyway?” Sheesh, if Cor had threatened Prompto, he would have dropped whatever it was _so fast._

 

“Certainly not.” Ignis scoffed, still amused. “He’d already shot me once not long before.”

 

Prompto snorted in disbelief.

 

“However… I couldn’t help but notice certain clues afterwards.” Ignis uncrossed his arms to gestured to him. “Blond is a rather uncommon hair color in Insomnia, and you’ve always been rather… skittish when Niflheim is the topic of conversation. Therefore, as I said before, I developed some suspicions as to where you were from prior to your adoption.”

 

This was just way too much right now. Prompto pressed his hands together. “So, you pretty much figured out my deepest, darkest secret years ago… and you just went about things, like, totally normal.”

 

“…If you’d like to put it that way, then I suppose, yes.”

 

A half-strangled screech that actually seemed to startle Ignis escaped Prompto’s mouth.

 

“My entire life!” Prompto waved his hands. “I have been worried about this!” He yanked on his hair. “I thought someone would find out and call the Glaive and get me imprisoned or killed or charged with treason, and everyone would hate me and think I was a spy or something! And now! You and Pelna are just like! Whatevs! No big deal!”

 

“…Well. I suppose there’s still a chance Gladio might be harboring an extreme case xenophobia to which we’ve all been previously unaware. You might yet get that reaction.”

 

Prompto dropped his hand, looking at Ignis flatly. “Gee, thanks. That helps.”

 

Ignis chuckled. “Honestly, Prompto… None of us would ever doubt your loyalty.” He started heading past the door. “Come now. Let’s reclaim our weapons.”  

 

Prompto sighed, shaking his head as he followed Ignis inside the room. “You also figure out that I’m a clone of a psychopath and was supposed to be an MT?”

 

“…I beg your pardon?”

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto was almost giddy by the time they were getting close to the Crystal. Not only had they found the Crystal and stuff, but they’d also taken out the weapons jammer and Ignis seriously did not give the slightest crap about Prompto’s past.

 

Hah.

 

Now they just needed to find Pelna and… do something with the Crystal.

 

…No, seriously, what were they going to do with the Crystal? Load it into a car and drive it out– 

 

Whoa…

 

A sharp ringing started in Prompto’s ears, and his vision swam before going white.

 

And then he was looking at… Ardyn. But… not like they knew him.

 

“ _Blessed was the man born for the throne – yet he, so impure of heart, was denied by the Stone and cast into ignominy…_ ” The voice continued on, filling in some of the shakier details from Cor’s story before the world whooshed back to normal like how Prompto imagined warping felt.

 

“What the _what?_ ” Prompto shook his head, and found Ignis rubbing his. So, he’d see it too.

 

“A message…” Ignis muttered. He started walking again. “Come on…”

 

The message-vision things kept coming, stopping them every so often. There were some daemons too.

 

Prompto wanted to throw up. Between the fighting, the vision crap, and the particular vision of Noct getting _speared_ on his own throne, his stomach really wasn’t feeling the best. Ignis just looked more stiff.

 

But they didn’t let that stop them. They pushed on through the hallways until the Crystal sat right in front of them, the air around it heavy with that awful, corrupt purple aura that seemed to follow Ardyn.

 

Ignis whipped around, and Prompto followed suit.

 

Ardyn was standing there. He looked up, a hand on the brim of his hat as his daemonized yellow eyes leaked a gross-looking goo.

 

Ignis made a noise of disgust. “What is your purpose for bringing us here, Ardyn? Why toy with us in this way?”

 

“Oh, don’t give yourself so much credit, my dear Advisor.” Ardyn tsked, the daemonic stuff fading and leaving him with his usual look. “You’re merely a means to an end, as is your beloved boy King.”

 

“Ahhh, so we are the bait, then, are we?” Ignis said, an edge to his voice. “To lure him into rushing into his fate sooner?”

 

Ardyn arched an eyebrow slowly. “Well… someone’s certainly informed. The truth’s finally been disclosed, has it?”

 

Ignis held his chin high. “It has been. But you’re deluding yourself if you think we’ll so readily allow him to give up his life.”

 

Ardyn laughed with genuine amusement rather than his usual creepy smug laugh. “I believe you’re the deluded one if you think you can stop fate, my boy.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about your fate or the will of the Crystal,” Ignis said darkly. “Noct will not walk like a lamb to your slaughter.”

 

“Yeah, what he said!” Prompto nodded firmly. If there was any way at all to save Noct… Prompto would be more than willing to risk it… whatever the risks were.

 

Ardyn still looked amused. “Well then… Can’t have you getting in the way, then, can we?” Ardyn threw a hand into the air. “Off with your heads!”

 

…Aw, crap.

 

Prompto and Ignis sprang in opposite directions, narrowly avoiding the flying red swords, spears, maces– holy crap, how many weapons did Ardyn _have?_

Prompto slid under another sword, summoning his gun and firing at Ardyn. Not that it would do much, but the dude was already shooting weapons at them – not like he was going to provoke him into doing something worse at this point. Maybe Prompto could slow him down.

 

He didn’t.

 

The weapons kept flying – so fast and so many of them. The first one that hit Prompto slammed into his thigh, making him fall to the ground with a gasp. He grabbed his thigh instinctively, looking it over. The was no visible wound, but it was still throbbing.

 

He could hear Ardyn and Ignis scuffling, but when he tried to look, all he could see was that…

 

The ceiling… was… falling… in.

 

Prompto scrambled backwards madly, narrowly avoiding a huge chunk of metal that landed right where he’d been less than a second ago. Part of the floor gave way, the rest of it lurching into a tilted position that Prompto started to slide down. His head smashed against something, making his mind go blank with pain for… he didn’t know how long.

 

His ears were ringing and head hurting too much to see anything. He didn’t know where he’d fallen.

 

Tasting iron in his mouth, Prompto somehow summoned a potion to hand, crushing it and blinking as his clear vision and hearing returned.

 

He coughed, the dust from the collapse not yet settling. He found Ignis across the room on his back. He was also struggling to get back up, and Ardyn was waltzing towards him.

 

Prompto raised his gun, firing off a shot, but Ardyn flashed through the bullet, appearing close enough that Prompto fell back to the floor in an effort to get away from him. Ardyn kicked the gun from his hand, sending it back into the Armiger before shoving Prompto the rest of the way over with his foot and then planting that foot on his chest.

 

Prompto wheezed under the pressure, trying to wriggle away but unable to make any progress.

 

“Now, now, none of that…” Ardyn chided. “You know all of this really wouldn’t be necessary if your liege would hurry along. I must admit, he has stepped into his father’s role more quickly than I’d expected – truly a child born for royalty – but his love for his subjects has rather slowed him down as of late. I’m beginning to think he might need a more direct incentive.” A sword appeared in Ardyn’s hand, and Prompto struggled further, still making no progress. “Perhaps the old-fashioned incentive of _revenge_ –”

 

Prompto and Ardyn both flinched, snapping their heads around as Ignis started screaming.

 

Prompto’s stomach dropped further than it already had.

 

What the hell had triggered Ignis _here?_ There was no water around–

 

Prompto gasped, despite the weight on his chest.

 

Ignis was not having a PTSD attack.

 

Ignis was hunched over on the ground with the Ring of the Lucii blazing brightly on his finger.

 

“Oh my… another one?” Ardyn said, sounding almost delighted as he stepped off of Prompto’s chest.

 

“Iggy, _no!_ ” Prompto rolled onto his feet, staring in horror. “You saw what they did to Nyx – he still can’t speak!” Dammit! He hadn’t told Ignis that before!

 

If Ignis could even hear Prompto over his own screams, he made no sign of it.

 

And then Ignis threw his head back with a final yell, eyes blazing with power and purple flames that were crawling over part of his face.

 

For a moment, he and Ardyn stared each other down.

 

And then Ignis _warped._

 


	50. The Dragoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’D LIKE TO TAKE THIS MOMENT TO APOLOGIZE TO EVERYONE FOR GLADIO’S BEHAVIOR IN THIS CHAPTER. INCLUDING MYSELF BECAUSE I HAD TO WRITE IT. NO ONE EVER LET ME STICK GLADIO AND ARANEA IN A ROOM TOGETHER WITHOUT IGNIS EVER AGAIN. YOU UTTER CHILDREN. WHY ARE YOU THIS WAY.

 

If she was honest with herself, Aranea had no idea what the hell she was doing with her life these days. Well, technically she did, but, Six, was it a mess. She was following a King – who wasn’t hers – that was fighting for a cause – that wasn’t hers – because the man she loved – who was dead – would have done it if he could. And also because her actual life and plans had literally been shot dead and she had nothing else to do.

 

Might as well.

 

Still. She’d grown at least a little fond of this strange group. Even Ravus Nox Fledouche. But especially of Prompto. She genuinely didn’t want to see him hurt, and that wasn’t just because of his connection to Ignis. And Noctis… Six, the kid was one more dead friend-slash-family member away from cracking, and she didn’t blame him. Losing Ignis had him close enough before Ardyn had tricked him into knocking two more members of their party off the train. He’d been teetering since then – unconfident in his ability to lead, and Ravus wasn’t helping on that front at all. Granted, Ravus had backed off a bit lately, but not enough.

 

So now they were all on guard – skittish even – and watching out for any sign of that damned immortal as they raced through the eerie streets of Gralea and into the heart of the capital itself. Into the damn Keep, which was entirely too silent for Aranea’s tastes.

 

Until now, that was.

 

Now, either there was a fight going on, the building was collapsing, or both. They were about to find out.

 

“This way!” Noct directed, warping a bit ahead. “Prompto? _Prompto!_ ”

 

Aranea winced at the desperation in his voice.

 

“ _Noct?_ ”

 

Oh, thank Shiva. The kid didn’t sound hurt, at least, but Aranea could still hear stuff blowing up.

A head of blond hair appeared as Prompto scrambled over a pile of debris with an agility that no one injured would ever able to pull off. Officially okay. Great.

 

“Prompto!” Noct’s tone turned elated as he reached his friend. “Six, I am so sorry about before! Are you okay?”  

 

“Huh? What – oh, dude, it’s fine! I know it was Ardyn messing with you,” he blathered out. “I’m fine, but I don’t know where Pelna is, and Ignis is in trouble!”

 

Aranea had just enough time to process that last bit before that damned Chancellor was blasted to land a few feet from their group.

 

Every single one of them fell back a step, weapons in hand as Ardyn rose, an irritated look on his face as he calmly batted out the fames on his sleeve. “Ahhh, Noctis. You know, this Advisor of yours is becoming a bit of a nuisance.”

 

As if on cue, Ignis warped into place atop a pile of rubble, _alive,_ but anything but _well_ as he glared down at Ardyn with literal fire in his eyes.  

 

“Ignis!” Noctis looked caught between relief and anger, and Aranea concurred as she spotted the damned royal Ring glowing on Ignis’ finger.

 

What price would it ask of him?

 

Ignis’ utterly terrifying gaze shifted to the rest of them. “Stay back, all of you!”

 

Noctis made a strangled noise, shooting Ulric and Ignis both a look. “What the hell is wrong with you two? Ignis, gimme that before it kills you!”

 

Ignis stared at him firmly. “Not yet.”

 

Ardyn laughed. “Ahhh, that dedication just warms the heart! Might even burn _someone’s_ heart _out_ before long.”

 

Again, as if on cue, Ignis staggered, dropping from the top of the rubble and falling to his knees as the flames on him quelled a bit.

 

“Ignis.” Noctis warped to his side, hands hovering close to him but not quite touching. Aranea sprinted in Noctis’ wake, sliding to crouch on Ignis’ other side.

 

Ignis trembled, and Aranea was now close enough to see the utter agony in Ignis’ eyes that lay behind the purple flames. Parts of his skin around those eyes looked like they’d been _seared._

For a moment, it seemed as though Ignis was looking at something beyond what the rest of them could see, and then he was focused on her. She dared to go a step further than Noctis, bringing her hand up to touch his cheek. Even through her glove, his skin was hot enough to hurt.

 

Ignis looked from her to Noctis for a few moments before shifting back to her.

 

“Forgive me…” he said shakily.

 

Aranea felt her heart breaking all over again. She was probably about to lose him for good, she could tell. But she’d known. She’d always known he placed keeping Noctis safe over everything else, even before finding him in a pool of his own blood with a slit artery. She’d accepted that as a risk she’d have to face when she’d realized her feelings for him were beyond that of friendship.

 

Noctis’ face paled. “Ignis–”

 

“My choice, Noct,” Ignis told him, a pained smile turning up his lips. And then he ducked his head, screaming in unbridled agony. Aranea yanked her hand back as more flames ripped across his body, his skin cracking as though lava was rising from his blood itself.

 

“ _No!_ ” Noctis yelled.

 

Gladio rushed over, hooking his arms under Noct’s and holding him back as Ignis kept screaming.

 

“Ignis, _no!_ ” Noct thrashed in Gladio’s hold. “ _What did you promise them?_ ”  

 

Ignis sucked in a breath, his last scream dying out as he pushed himself up, his nailbeds blackened and charred, and his visible skin flayed so far past what should have been possible for a human being to take and still be alive.

 

Aranea blinked rapidly against the heat coming off of him, refusing to cry.

 

His life. He’d offered his life – just like he always had.

 

Ardyn had been standing back, casually observing them for a few moments, but now Ignis _launched_ at him, and the two of them clashed in a blinding display of magic.

 

“Gladio, _get off of me!_ I need to help him – I’m the only one who can!”

 

Despite Gladio’s efforts, Noctis was able to wrench himself free via some harsh twisting and a warp. He summoned one of his ancestor’s blades, hurling it with all his might into the fight.

 

“Noct!” Gladio called after him.

 

“Noct, get out of here!” Ignis protested as well.

 

The two of them dodged a massive scythe that Ardyn had swung, and they ended appearing back-to-back

 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Noctis sharply looked to Ignis. “Together. Like we always have.”

 

Ignis hesitated before giving a stiff nod. “…Very well.”

 

They warped again, in unison this time, magic once again lighting up the area as they took on Ardyn together.

 

“What can _we_ do?” Prompto asked, looking ready to spring.

 

“Nothing,” Ravus said flatly. “This is the fight of higher powers – we’d only get in the way.”

 

“But Noctis isn’t ready for this.” Lunafreya gripped her trident tightly. “His powers haven’t grown strong enough!”

 

That didn’t seem to matter to Noctis. He was going to fight anyway.

 

No choice but to wait and watch as those they loved literally played with fire.

 

* * *

 

 

Had there not been lives on the line, the fight would have been a strange and beautiful type of chaos to watch. All three men were like liquid lethality, warping and moving with a sleek gracefulness that just wasn’t possible to obtain without magic.

 

Ardyn was clearly the most powerful of the three, but Ignis and Noctis fought as though they were extensions of the same person, using each other’s attacks to instigate their own and weaving around each other with a familiarity that told of their years of training together.

 

In the end, they wore Ardyn down, leaving him staggering and slowly… disintegrating into purple wisps. And that was when Ignis’ flames began to die out as well.

 

“‘The best laid plans,’ eh?’” Ardyn rasped out, wobbling.

 

The ember-like look of Ignis’ skin faded, leaving him ashen as his breathing took on a wheeze.

 

“…Ignis?” Noctis’ voice held an edge of fear, his sword in hand as he looked from Ardyn – who was in front of him – to where Ignis was halfway across their fighting area.

 

Ignis collapsed to his hands and knees, wheezing further.

 

Ardyn managed a chuckle as he kept fading. “Best act quickly, Your Majesty. My revenge may have eluded me for now, but rest assured: this isn’t over.” He vanished totally on those last words at the same time Ignis fell onto his side.

 

Aranea was already rushing to Ignis’ side, beating Noctis there by mere seconds. The others joined them, keeping their distance by just a couple of feet. Ignis had rolled onto his back by the time they got there, and Aranea gently slid her hands under his head, pulling his shoulders to rest on her lap.

 

His breathing was so weak… labored. It was painful to listen to. And his face… Aranea swallowed thickly upon seeing the flaking, jagged scars that were running down the left side of Ignis’ face… and his neck… and both of his arms.

 

Six, his arms were the worst. They looked as though they might turn to dust if she touched them.

 

“You’re a stupid selfless idiot,” Aranea choked out, trailing her fingers through his hair.

 

He stared up at her, seemingly to try and smile before his face contorted with pain again.

 

“Ignis…” Noctis reached out, gently but urgently taking Ignis’ hand and pulling the Ring from his finger. “Hold on, I can fix this.”

 

“…Noct…” Ignis mumbled, possibly a protest.

 

“Save it,” Noctis ordered. “You’ve done all you can. You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for. Let me take it from here.”

 

Noctis turned to look at Luna, giving her a smile before he slid the Ring onto his own finger.

 

He let out a cry that made Aranea flinch as his eyes lit up with that same purple magic as Ignis’ had held before. Unlike with Ignis, however, the color faded as quickly as it had come, and Noctis held up his hand, the Ring glowing softly there.

 

“I’m ready,” he said softly.

 

“We’re still gonna find another way, Noct,” Gladio spoke forcefully. “We’ll figure something out while you’re gone.”

 

Noctis chuckled, shaking his head. “I know I can’t stop you, so thanks for trying.” He looked to all of them individually. “Thank you all… for everything.”

 

His hand shot out in the direction of where the Crystal was, and the Crystal lit up, soft trails of light finding their way from it and over to them.

 

Ignis shifted faintly as the first streams of light hit him, his breathing easing a bit. The worst of his scars began to fade. Noctis smiled at that before rising to his feet and facing Luna.

 

“We’ll be here when you return,” she promised.

 

He reached a hand up to touch her face. “I know you will.”

 

Those two… separated again so soon. Aranea trailed her hand through Ignis’ hair again, noting how he was looking a bit better with each passing second. That seemed to be a reoccurring theme with their group – one of them being separated from the rest of them.

 

Aranea almost laughed at the noise Ravus made as Noctis and Lunafreya kissed. Any other time and she probably would have had a snarky comment to throw at them all, but not now. Instead, she helped Ignis sit up. A couple of his scars weren’t fading, but he looked so much better and alive that she didn’t care.

 

“Don’t do that to me again, okay?” she fussed, knowing there was no actual anger in her tone.

 

“Ah, well, yes, I’ll endeavor not to light myself on fire in the future,” he said, sounding beyond exhausted.

 

She smiled involuntarily, dropping her forehead against the side of his.

 

Six, she loved him. She hadn’t realized just how much until she’d thought she’d lost him along with Biggs and Wedge. She even loved his stupid stubbornness and the seemingly permanent wrinkle on his brow – his unrestricted loyalty and bossy tendencies…

 

Noctis was withdrawing from Lunafreya, stepping back in the direction of the Crystal and giving all of them one last look over.

 

“Wait,” she said sharply. “Pretty Boy, we don’t know how long you’re gonna be gone, do we?”

 

Noctis looked at Luna, and then they both shook their heads.

 

“No telling… _Probably_ a while… A long while.”

 

She pursed her lips. This was a stupid and ridiculous idea. Probably the worst one she’d had since that time she challenged Biggs and Wedge to a dart throwing competition while they were all drunk.

 

But to hell with it. It was at least worth a shot. “Ignis, do you see things lasting between us? Like, in the very long run?”

 

“I’m sorry?” Ignis twisted in her hold, supporting his own weight now as he faced her with a confused scowl.

 

“Just answer the question – are there any red flags for you? Any doubts you have that this won’t work?

 

“I… no. You’re the only woman I’ve cared for on this level or even remotely close to it.” He still looked confused.

 

“Is this really the time?” Ravus groused.

 

“Can it, High Commander Grumpy!” Aranea snapped over her shoulder before locking gazes with Noctis. “You’re a King – you can do marriages, right?”

 

Prompto made some strangled yelping noise somewhere behind her as Noctis’ eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

 

“Uh. Technically. I guess so? Yes?” Noctis managed to get out. “Wait, do you want me to–”

 

“Did you just bloody _propose_ to me?” Ignis demanded.

 

Well. She supposed she had. Not exactly the roses and candles and dinner route she was sure he would have gone, but…

 

“Well, I’m sure you’d rather have him do that than someone else, and for all we know it could be a hundred years before he gets back!” Aranea argued, more because of how ridiculous she herself thought it was rather than how _they_ were acting. “So, are you in or not?”

 

Ignis opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I… Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I am _in._ ”

 

“Are you serious right now?” Noctis gaped. “You want me to _marry_ you two _right now?_ ”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Apparently.”

 

Ignis looked so dazed at the moment that Aranea wasn’t going to hold that against him.

 

“ _Sold!_ ” Prompto darted around, pulling his camera out of the Armiger and dropping to one knee to get shots of the three of them.

 

Noctis spluttered. “But… I…” He glanced over his shoulder at the Crystal, then back to them, throwing his arms in the air. “I don’t even know what to say!”

 

“Oh! I know!” Prompto grinned. “ _Mawaige–_ ”

 

Noct jabbed a finger at him. “Prompto, I swear to the Six, if you start quoting _Princess Bride_ at me right now!”

 

Prompto pouted.

 

Ravus rubbed his forehead with a sigh.

 

“‘Ignis Scientia, do you take this woman…’” Lunafreya suggested.

 

“Oh, right!” Noctis smacked his own forehead. “Uh, Ignis… Scientia… do you take this woman to, uh, be your wife? And, uh, to… have and to hold and such? Through sickness and… PTSD attacks? So long–”

 

“I think there’s supposed to be an ‘and health’ in there somewhere, buddy,” Prompto said, snapping a shot right as Noctis glared at him.

 

“Yeah, they’re not just supposed to be there for each other _just_ when things suck…” Gladio added.

 

Oh, dear Astrals, this was horrid. It was so horrible that it was honestly just perfect considering how they’d met and their whole relationship had started and been going ever since.

 

“Fine,” Noctis said through gritted teeth. “Through sickness, PTSD, health, happiness, kidnappings, rescues, and death! Is that better?”

 

Aranea snorted with sudden laughter. Ignis looked as though he were watching someone desecrate a cookbook or something – somehow blank-faced but horrified and dismayed at the same time. After all the years he’d spent drilling Noctis on speeches, this was the result.

 

“…I think they would have preferred you left things as they were,” Ravus muttered.

 

“Shut it,” Noctis hissed. “ _So long as you both shall live?_ ”

 

Ignis blinked. “I… believe I agreed with everything you just said, yes. _I do._ ”

 

“Great!” Noct clapped his hands together. “And Aranea– oh, do we need someone to give you away?”

 

Gladio snorted. “Like who, Noct?”

 

“I don’t know, Nyx? They’ve been getting along like brother and sister or something!”

 

Aranea rolled her eyes. “Fine. Ulric! Give me away.”

 

Ulric spread is arms, clearly making a face that said _how?_

 

“I don’t know, gesture!” She shrugged.

 

Ulric made a noise with just air and sent Noct a thumbs up with a sarcastic smile.

 

There was a ‘speak now or forever hold your piece joke in there somewhere, but Aranea wasn’t _that_ horrible of a person. Though, to be honest, Ulric probably would have actually found it funny.

 

“Cool,” Noct said. “Aranea Highwind, do you… also agree to everything he just did?”

 

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Noct…” Ignis buried his face in his hand.

 

Aranea snorted again. “ _I do._ ”

 

“Great, uh…” Noctis blinked several times.

 

“ _I present,_ ” Luna said.

 

“I present!” Noctis echoed. “Mr. and Mrs.– wait, did you want to keep your last name?”

 

Oh, for crying out loud, that was literally the last thing on her mind.

 

“…You know, his is fine.” She waved him off.

 

“You’re certain?” Ignis asked seriously. “I won’t be offended if you wish–”

 

“Scientia is fine!”

 

“I present Mr. and Mrs. Scientia!” Noctis gestured wildly to them both. “You guys can kiss and stuff!”

 

Well, honestly, the Fleurets were the only ones who hadn’t seen that before.

 

And so they did. Only for Aranea to recoil a moment later, choking.

 

“Oh, what the _hell_ – I just got _ash_ in my mouth!”

 

“Well, let record show that this was your idea, darling,” Ignis said in a falsely charming voice.

 

“…Well, on that note, the Astrals are waiting on me,” Noctis said, backing up.

 

She’d managed to make his Crystal journey to death more appealing than sticking around. That was honestly a little impressive.

 

“Be safe, Noct,” Ignis told him, apparently managing to push aside all the embarrassment.

 

“You guys too. I’ll see you on the other side.” Noctis tossed them one last smile, and then his weapon was in hand, and he warped away, landing next to the Crystal.

 

The light of the Crystal grew, taking him from their line of sight as Aranea took Ignis’ hand in her own.

 

* * *

 

 

Aranea was fortunate that her marriage was a hell of a lot better than her wedding. She’d always been able to care for herself, but she couldn’t deny that it was nice to have a true partner. Especially since the apocalypse broke out immediately after they left Gralea.

 

The world became a tougher place, but so did all of them.

 

The Fleurets, Cor, Clarus, and Nyx took to leading those who were surviving, setting up base in Lestallum. The remaining Glaive met them there, including Pelna after he’d somehow managed to survive making his way from the middle of nowhere back to Lestallum. Apparently Ardyn had knocked him and Prompto out, but just… left Pelna there in the snow.

 

The hunters, Lucian civilians, even immigrants from Tenebrae and Gralea itself poured into the ever-growing haven of a city.

 

And so the rest of them became protectors of their haven-city. Gladio and Prompto weren’t often with her and Ignis on hunts and missions, but they managed to find an excuse every so often. Pelna’s wedding, for example – which, despite taking place during the apocalypse, was far more glamorous than Aranea and Ignis’ had been.

 

Aranea still wouldn’t have changed it. In terms of their relationship, she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Maybe they hadn’t had the best of starts, but she couldn’t have asked for a better marriage.

 

The further Ignis got away from Loqi time-wise, the better he was. It was a wonderful thing, seeing him shed the worries of his multiple traumas. After all, he clearly had more important things to worry about. Like whether or not he’d collect every possible educational book in existence for their child for once it was born.

 

Aranea absolutely hated being benched from missions for those few months, but Cor was gracious enough to find her some non-field work to do in the meantime. And then there was the evening highlight of Ignis doting on her well beyond ridiculous amounts every time he got back from the field.

 

She might have felt smothered if it wasn’t so hilarious to see him frantically making sure her every need was taken care of and that the dishes were in alphabetical order so she wouldn’t have to do anything. She was torn for a while on whether or not to say anything. On one hand, he worked very hard for her and the baby and she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. On the other… he worked _very_ hard for her and the baby and dear Shiva when did he even sleep? She had the sneaking suspicion that he was still trying to somewhat pay her back for all the support she’d given him during his lowest point. Of course, that was completely unnecessary, but he hadn’t actually said anything, and he was incredibly stubborn, so she knew confronting him on the topic wouldn’t do much. Besides, her due date was soon anyway. Had to be less than a week or two at this point. She was beginning to feel like an overly fed garula. An extremely _bored_ overly fed garula.

 

Really. Sweet Six was she bored, sitting on her and Ignis’ couch again, back in their room at the Leville alone while he was out killing daemons and all the shit she’d love to be doing. She sighed, dropping her head back onto the couch at an angle that wasn’t even comfortable. She’d already finished the stuff Cor assigned her, and Ignis wouldn’t be back in the city for hours at the earliest, possibly a day at the most – the last mission he was taking on until the baby was born, he’d promised.

 

Aranea swore he was like someone made a character and maxed out all the _supportive_ and _understanding_ attributes.

 

…That still didn’t keep her from being bored.

 

She wanted to hunt some daemons. She wanted to hunt a _lot_ of daemons.

 

And then someone knocked on the door.

 

Aranea’s head shot up.

 

She’d been cooped up for so long that getting up was more of a relief than a hassle. It took her a minute, but she was able to rise from her cocoon on the couch and open the door for… Gladio of all people.

 

Out of everyone in their group, he’d been in Lestallum the least lately, usually taking hunts further out, so it was surprising that he was her visitor.

 

“Hey, Aranea.” He flashed a smile, but there was some tension in his face. Irritation, if she had to guess.

 

“Hey, Muscle-top,” she returned, leaning on the doorframe. Six, she was getting out of shape.

 

“Iggy in?”

 

“Nope. Mission. Due back later.”

 

“Right…” He rubbed his jaw. “Well, Prompto isn’t in the city right now, but I was gonna invite you guys at least for drinks.” He spared her stomach a glance. “Well, not real drinks for you, but still.”

 

“Yeah, rub it in.” She groaned. So many stressful months without a drink to take the edge off. All the good stuff was going to be totally gone by the time she was back to that stage.

 

Gladio chuckled. “Offer still stands, even without Iggy. Others might be busy, but Nyx is in, and he managed to drag Cor in.”

 

Aranea thought about it. Well, as much trouble as it was going to be to waddle down to that part of Lestallum, she’d take it. “Sounds good.”

 

Besides, she was kind of curious as to how Nyx had managed to pull off getting the Marshal to take a night off.

 

Despite Pretty Boy having been able to get the Crystal to heal Ignis up after his dance with the Ring, Nyx was still saddled with his disability. Real pity for a guy with that much sass and wit, but at least he was still able to dish out those pointed expressions and occasionally a note that would stop his victims in their tracks. Ignis – and Prompto, to a lesser extent – had been teaching him a bit of sign language the last few months, but he still carried around a notepad with him everywhere and relied on it since not everyone he needed to speak to knew how to read sign language.

 

Aranea trudged after Gladio, noting that he was still stewing over something quietly the whole way. She wondered what that was about. He wasn’t usually one for internalized anger. He was still frowning when they reached Lestallum’s makeshift bar where Nyx and Cor were waiting, already seated at a booth.

 

Ulric gave the two of them a wave as they approached.

 

The bar didn’t look bad considering the circumstances, Aranea noted. She hadn’t bothered to try it out before since she couldn’t have alcohol for the last nineish months, but she liked it. A little more… homely than most of the bars she’d been to in the past, but the darkness was bringing out a connection and care between strangers that wasn’t present before.

 

How sad was that? It had only taken the apocalypse to make people give a damn about each other.

 

“Evenin’, Ulric. Marshal.” Aranea paused before the booth, letting Gladio slide into the booth first. No way she felt like going to the effort to maneuver in and out of that.

 

“Evening,” Cor returned, a sour look on his face and a barely touched drink on the table in front of him. Nyx seemed to be in a better mood, but he was similarly not terribly interested in his drink.

 

“I take it the alcohol is leaving something to be desired?” Aranea questioned, taking her seat and trying to find a comfortable position. Why did she bother? It was next to impossible lately.

 

As if on cue with her thoughts, her stomach cramped. Fun. It had been doing that all day.

 

“Let’s just say you aren’t missing much.” Cor crossed his arms. “The drinks served here are all homebrewed.”

 

Aranea wrinkled her nose.

 

Nyx picked up a pen on the table by his hand, scribbling down a couple words in that chicken-scratch penmanship of his that Aranea had long since learned to read before pushing his notepad to her.

 

_Furniture polish._

 

Aranea snorted. “Yum.” She passed the notepad back. “Gotta say, Cap, I’m impressed you managed to drag the Marshal here away from his work. He’s almost as bad as my husband about running himself ragged.”

 

Cor didn’t look amused. Nyx smirked.

 

Gladio seemed neutral, squinting at the menu behind the actual bar that was across the room. “Got any recommendations, then?”

 

“Nothing other than to avoid what we’ve ordered,” Cor said flatly.

 

“Okay.” Aranea sat back, crossing her arms too and resting them on her stupidly large stomach. “What’s with the long faces? We were supposed to be meeting for _fun_.”

 

“I have work.”

 

“I’m about to murder my family.”

 

All eyes turned to Gladio.

 

Aranea raised an eyebrow. “Come again, Amicitia?” Pretty forceful words from a guy who’d thought his dad was dead for a while, even if he didn’t really mean them.

 

He glowered at the table. “Ever since my dad heard you and Ignis are expecting a kid he’s been on my back about getting him grandkids… And Iris apparently likes the idea of being an aunt, so she’s joined in.”

 

…Was _that_ why he hadn’t been in the city lately?

 

Aranea snorted. “Are you even seeing anyone?”

 

“No!”

 

Cor chuckled, his mood upturning within moments. “Sounds like Clarus, all right. As tough as he acts, he turns very soft when it comes to kids.”

 

Aranea swallowed a laugh, pressing her hand over another cramp in her stomach. Six, these things were getting worse. That one was very intense compared to the ones earlier, but she’d grown used to her body doing weird things the last few months. This was probably withdrawal symptoms from being off of Ignis’ cooking for a couple of days. She’d been lazy about meals and had no restraint on her cravings since he left.

 

It was hard to imagine the older Amicitia cooing at a baby, but she could _just_ picture it. And Cor was calling the kettle black there a bit. Maybe he wasn’t soft with every kid, but she could sure think of a certain blond one he was subtly attached to.

 

“Yeah, well he can play granddad to Iggy and Aranea’s kid, because it’s gonna be a while on my end…” Gladio grumbled.

 

“What, you not down for an immediate arranged marriage so you can pop out an heir?” Aranea grinned.

 

Gladio made some sort of garbled, displeased noise.

 

Nyx was silently snickering.

 

Gladio sighed. “Why did I think this was a good idea?”

 

“Probably because you thought Ignis would be here making us all behave.” Aranea grinned. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m currently tempted to murder him for slightly different reasons.”

 

“Oh yeah? Trouble in paradise?” Gladio was already looking less miserable and ready for snark. “He insist on folding your socks one way? Keep putting your stuff up where you can’t find it?”

 

“Six, no. He’s every girl’s less-than-wild fantasy when it comes to stuff around our place.” In truth, his cleaning habits _had_ annoyed her at first, but she’d gotten over than very quickly. After all, he _did_ always put things in the same place if he did swipe something up that she’d only put down for half a minute. It was one-part irritating, but also two parts helpful, and one-part endearing. “I just made the mistake of mentioning that I’d never had a real birthday party before.”

 

Nyx scribbled something down, nudging the pad across the table again.

 

_Planning something now, is he?_

 

“Oh, yeah.” Aranea flicked the pad back. “I dread to think of what he’ll come up with by next month.” It was sweet. But really… she didn’t see the need. She and Biggs and Wedge had never done that sort of thing. Birthdays had consisted of a night off drinking as a group. They didn’t do, like… actual parties.

 

“That hypocrite!” Gladio laughed. “After all the lines he fed us about not making a big deal out of his birthday!”

 

“You expected otherwise from Ignis?” Cor raised an eyebrow. “He’s a rather prominent example of ‘do as I say, not as I do.’”

 

“True that,” Aranea said. Ignis would be horrified if he was looking after someone who acted like him.

 

“Gotta agree with him, though – you need at least one good birthday party. Especially now. People need some happy things to hold on to,” Gladio said.

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Aranea muttered. People did need some moral boosts. And it wasn’t like anything Ignis would set up would be too crazy.

 

“I guess I should find you a present, then, eh?” Gladio mused.

 

Aranea sighed. She really wasn’t getting out of this. “Go for something shiny and sharp – I’ll probably like it.”

 

Nyx made a noise that Aranea assumed was further amusement as he picked up his drink.

 

Was he actually braving another sip of that with how bad it apparently was?

 

Gladio seemed to think about what she said for a moment before he lit up, what was clearly an idea. He grinned at her. “Oh, I know something.”

 

Aranea gave him a look. Generally she’d be fine with waiting for a surprise, but his tone was… concerning. “…Dare I ask?”

 

Gladio shrugged, still looking mischievous. “I just bet the two of you could make good use of a pair of handcuffs.”

 

Nyx choked on his drink, quickly grabbing a napkin and pressing it to his mouth to clean up the mess as his shoulders shook with his muted laughter. Cor just subtly shifted his head to give Gladio a glare that Aranea could only describe as disappointed. “Are you serious?”

 

“ _Ha,_ ” Aranea said, unfazed. Why would that surprise her at this point? Besides… “Really, Amicitia?” She shook her head condescendingly.

 

“What?” he shot back, still looking pleased with himself.

 

She arched her right brow. “This is me and Ignis – why on Eos would you assume we haven’t already made use of such things?”

 

Surprise flickered over Gladio’s face as Nyx gave a low wolf whistle.

 

Cor brought a hand up to knead the bridge of his nose. “There are plenty of things in this world I would be more than happy to live without ever knowing. That was one of them.”

 

Aranea snorted. “Don’t tell me that the great Immortal is squeamish?”

 

Cor looked at her flatly. “I’ve known Ignis since he was five. I’d prefer not to learn details such as _that_ about his life.”

 

Aranea held her hands up. “Fine, fine, fair enough.”

 

Gladio was still frowning in thought. “So, which one of you is on t–”

 

“ _Gladio,_ ” Cor said lowly.

 

“We trade. Depends on who’s in what mood.” She tossed him another glance. “Not that _any_ of this is your business.”

 

“I would like it to _not_ be my business,” Cor muttered.

Nyx wiped away some tears, shoulders still shaking.

 

Aranea hissed suddenly, another cramp hitting her. Gah, okay, yeah, those were definitely getting worse. She hoped nothing was wrong.

 

Cor looked simultaneously relieved and concerned. “You all right, Highwind?”

 

“Fine,” she grumbled. “Just been getting these pains all day. Weren’t that bad earlier.”

 

“You need the hospital?” Gladio asked.

 

Aranea thought about it. The hospital was on the absolute opposite side of the city. That sounded like way too much damn effort, but she probably needed to, just to be sure the little future dragoon was okay – and she was _very_ convinced it was going to be a future dragoon given the acrobatics it had been pulling.

“I’ll stop by after we head out of here,” she decided.

 

Nyx started scribbling on the pad again.

 

She waited. She really ought to make an effort to learn sign. Writing was time consuming. Probably would be nice for Nyx to be able to sign to as many people as possible.

 

Nyx pushed the pad to her as he finished his message off.

 

_Headed that way. Help you out?_

 

Aranea smiled. “Sure, thanks. Appreciate it.” That sassy rugged bucket of caring. In another life, she could have gone for him. Just not with Ignis around.

 

Nyx sent her a thumbs up, pulling the pad back to him.

 

Really, walking across the whole city was far more appealing with a little help.

 

…Six, she couldn’t wait to be back to her regular, non-round self once this was over. It was worth it, but she hadn’t been this inactive this long in her whole life. She wanted to get back to tearing up the skies and protecting the people alongside Ignis, Shortcake, Nyx, and the rest of the Glaive and hunters.

 

She hesitated, her smile fading as she thought about it. Had she just… She had. She’d just thought of the others like a family. Of course she’d felt like that with Ignis for a long while, but he was one man. She’d never had a whole group of people and a place where she felt she’d belonged before.

 

“You sure you’re okay now?” Gladio prompted.

 

Peace. Despite her current physical discomfort, she was mentally at peace. She cared about people, and was cared about. She wasn’t just a tagalong to them that came with Ignis. They cared about _her_ too. She had a cause that she was fighting alongside others for – one she actually believed in herself.

 

Aranea felt her smile return, softer this time. “You know, Amicitia… I’m great.”

 

And then she gasped as another cramp made her insides feel like they’d been squeezed and then twisted.

 

She gripped the table. “On second thought… I might have to call this night out early. Sorry, boys.”

 

“No sweat…” Gladio was frowning at her, and he offered her a hand to help her balance as she tried to scoot out of the booth. “I got nowhere to be – I’ll come with you too.”

 

Aranea tried to thank him, but she was gritting her teeth too tightly. She tried to straighten up into a standing position. Ugh, everything was so uncomfortable–

 

And wet. Very wet, suddenly.

 

She froze as Gladio climbed out of the booth and stood next to her. Cor was gesturing to the waiter at the moment, and Nyx was picking up his notepad. None of them had noticed anything yet.

 

“…So. My water just broke.”

 

All three heads snapped towards her.

 

“Are you serious?” Gladio demanded.

 

“No, I just thought it would be hilarious to watch you all panic – _yes, I’m serious!_ ”

 

Cor was, unsurprisingly, the first to jump into action. “Gladio, move.”

 

He grabbed the edge of the table they were previously at and pulled it away from the booths. He then moved to grab one half of the booth. “Nyx, get the other booth.”

 

Nyx complied with a nod and they pushed two seats together. They were lucky these weren’t the type that were bolted to the floor. She now had a place to lie down, even if there was going to be an awkward seam between the seats in the middle of her back. She’d take it over the floor, though. The booths were comfortable, at least.

 

“Shouldn’t we be getting her to the hospital?” Gladio asked, shrugging off his green jacket and wadding it up to make a sad excuse for a pillow. Well, at least he’d been wearing an undershirt today.

 

“She’s already in labor.” Cor also was shedding his jacket to add to Gladio’s. “Attempting to move her clear across the city on foot is unwise when we don’t know exactly how far along she is. We’ll need to call someone here.”

 

“Oh great,” Aranea groaned, letting Gladio help her up to lie back on the jackets. “Baby in a bar.” She laughed hysterically at a sudden thought. “Ignis is gonna _love_ that.”

 

Ignis… Oh, Six, he’d been so looking forward to this. He’d promised to be with her every step of the way, and now he was going to miss the birth of their child because the little bugger had decided to show up early. He was going to be so disappointed.

 

And she wasn’t going to lie… she was not excited about having her baby here. With Gladio and Cor and Nyx as her nurses.

 

…They had better be calling someone better than the three of them. A real doctor.

 

“Um…” The barkeep was hovering in their area now, looking like he had no idea what to do. He’d probably just come over to see why they were moving his furniture around. “Can I, um, help with anything, uh, Mister… Marshal, sir?”

 

“Yes.” Cor started listing off some things that Aranea missed as another cramp hit her, once again worse than any of the others in past.

 

So. Contractions. Yippy.

 

Gladio was already on the phone with someone – presumably and hopefully a doctor – and Nyx leaned against the booth, offering Aranea a hand to squeeze.

 

Aranea managed to arch an eyebrow at him through the pain. “Sure you wanna offer that, Ulric? No takebacks later!”

 

He grinned, leaving his hand where it was, and she reached up to grip it firmly. Six, these were getting way worse and way more frequent damn fast. She groaned loudly.

 

“Right…” the barkeeper said. “…Don’t you guys need to, like… get her pants off?”

 

Nyx and Gladio froze, looking to the man, who was flushing rather quickly.

 

…This was going to be the worst experience of her life, Aranea just knew it.

 

“Items. Go,” Cor told him.

 

The guy fled, and he wasn’t the only one. Several other customers were also vacating. A couple were hovering, looking like they wanted to offer help.

 

Aranea wasn’t sure which ones to be more thankful to.

 

“Everyone out!” Cor yelled, and the remaining customers all fled very quickly.

 

The minutes started to blur as Aranea tried to focus on breathing through the pain. She did manage to get her pants off after the barkeep brought her a towel to allow her some decency, so that was a plus.

 

Pain really getting worse now? Not such a plus.

 

The door to the bar was shoved open, and Aranea thought Ravus had showed up for the moment before she realized that the owner of the white coat was much shorter than him. And a woman.

 

“Sir, I’m here!” the Glaive said.

 

“Delilah, right?” Gladio said, talking far faster than normal. “Good! We need you here. Aranea’s in labor.”

The look on Delilah’s face was doing anything but inspiring Aranea’s confidence.

 

“…Uh.” Delilah blinked.

 

“Well?” Gladio demanded. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

 

“…Sir, I’m a _field medic._ ”

 

Cor tossed Gladio a look. “You didn’t call the hospital?”

 

“I didn’t know that number, and I figured a Glaive could get here faster!” Gladio shot back, attention still on Delilah. “Can’t you still help her? I mean, you’re a woman!”

 

Delilah gaped at him. “What does _that_ have to do with anything?”

 

“Well… you… instinct?” Gladio gestured senselessly.

 

The Glaive stared at him, and Aranea realized that the woman had just completely lost any respect she’d had for Gladio as a commanding officer.

 

“Being a woman does not give me the magical ability to know how to deliver a child! Don’t you have a sister?”

 

“Well, yeah, but I was nine when she was born, and we went to the hospital!”

 

Nyx was doing a very poor job of suppressing his laughter and Aranea glared murder up at him. “Ulric, I will flay you.”

 

“For Astrals’ sake…” Cor muttered, stalking over to Gladio and Delilah. “Medical gloves. Now. Delilah, leave your medical supplies go find me a doctor that knows what they’re doing with these circumstances.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

And so they lost the only actual medical professional they had. And as more time passed and Aranea started struggling with not _screaming_ , she started to wonder if they were going to get another one.

 

Cor hovered, hesitating on taking any further steps still.

 

Finally, his phone rang.

 

“ _Unavailable?_ ” he repeated incredulously after a few moments on the phone. “All of them?”

 

Aranea could just hear Delilah’s response. “ _Well, one’s in the middle of surgery on an injured Glaive, one’s out of the city to help a patient that couldn’t be moved, and the rest are helping out with a group of hunters that just came in kind of literally in pieces. I’ll get someone to you as soon as I can, but it may be a bit–_ ”

 

“As soon as possible,” Cor pressed, hanging up.

 

“I hate everyone,” Aranea growled, dropping her head back against her jacket-pillow.

 

Nyx gave her a sympathetic look. He tried to reach for his pad of paper, but stopped.

 

Oh, yeah… He only had one hand to do stuff with. His other was currently turning blue in her grip.

 

He signed something with his free hand.

 

She had no idea what that meant, but she assumed he was trying to be encouraging.

 

“…We’re delivering this kid, aren’t we?” Gladio asked, looking pale.

 

Cor sighed, reaching for the medical gloves Delilah had left.

* * *

 

 

Four hours. It had taken the hospital four hours to get them some sunken-eyed young doctor who looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. Aranea might have felt bad for him had she not already been screaming in agony for hours with the Immortal giving her instructions like giving birth was a combat exercise.

 

As things were, she wanted to hurl her lance into the face of the overly caffeinated and strangely peppy man who was doing anything but helping.

 

“Have you ever even delivered a kid before?” Aranea snarled at him, making him jump.

 

He blinked behind his overly large glasses that weren’t helping him look less demented. “Well. No, but my sister had a baby and told me about it, and I was in training when the Darkness–”

 

“ _Go away!_ ”

 

And so he did. Without even giving everyone else a second glance.

 

This was. The actual worst.

 

“…So. Now what?” Gladio asked nervously, wiping down her forehead with a wet cloth.

 

No one had an answer, and it was at least another agonizing fifteen minutes before the door to the bar opened again.

 

Aranea brought her head up, sweat dripping down her neck as she was about to shriek at whoever it was when Pelna poked his head. “Uh, Marshal? Nyx?”

 

“Not a good time, Khara,” was Cor’s strained reply.

 

Aranea would have laughed if everything didn’t suck so much. He sounded like he was dismantling a bomb.

 

“Uh, yeah, I heard… I just though I might be able to help…”

 

“Yeah, you got an epidural?” Aranea snapped, dropping her head back again and scrunching her eyes shut.

 

“…No. But I have a wife who’s a nurse with me?”

 

…Oh, thank the Six.

 

Bless that nerdy little previously white-haired gamer child.

 

“Then get your asses in here!” Gladio snapped.

 

Pelna held the door open, and Canitia ducked slightly to get under his arm and into the bar. It almost took a second for Aranea to recognize her – hair dye wasn’t exactly a priority these days, so only her tips were left white while the rest of her hair was a natural red, but it _was_ her.

 

“Hey, Aranea.” She smiled gently. “Sorry I wasn’t here earlier.” She moved over and knelt next to Cor. “How’s she doing?”

* * *

 

 

It was eighteen damn hours and something minutes of labor total. It was literally the worst experience of her life. But… well, of course it was worth it now that she had her and Ignis’ baby boy in her arms.

 

Aranea smiled tiredly, looking down at the little rascal.

 

“He’s adorable, Highwind,” Pelna said with a grin.

 

“He sure is,” Gladio agreed. “Too bad Prompto’s not here with his camera.”

 

Too bad Ignis wasn’t here with his husbandness. Her smile faltered. She was so thankful to everyone that was there, but obviously she would have preferred Ignis to any of them.

 

Still, as embarrassing as the Immortal half delivering her child was, at least she hadn’t had to go through this with strangers. They weren’t Ignis, but…

 

Nyx shrugged off his Glaive jacket and set it around Aranea’s shoulders.

 

…She really had a family, she realized. Not all of them were here right this minute, but they existed. A group that cared about her, like she used to have with Biggs and Wedge. Six, did she still miss them, but that ache was dulled just a bit by this.

 

She’d been wrong, all that time. She had known what it was like to have a cause, she just hadn’t recognized it at the time. Biggs and Wedge – her family then had been her cause. And now… now she had another.

 

She wished they were here to see it, but she knew they’d wish her the best.

 

If she stretched her imagination, she could even hear them.

 

“ _Way to go, Lady A._ ”

 

“ _Spoil this one rotten, I will. Just try’n stop me._ ”

 

Aranea blinked back tears.

 

She had someone else to look after now. A lot of someones. Her and Ignis’ child, yes… but also the others. Watch their backs. Keep them safe. Friends and citizens alike.

 

“Did you and Ignis decide on a name?” Cor asked, sitting in a nearby chair and looking about as done with the day as Aranea felt.

 

Aranea chuckled weakly. “We bickered over it a bit. Finally settled.” What a fun day that had been. All those fancy Lucian names… She recognized Ignis’ desire to name their child something meaningful and Lucian-y, but she refused to use a name that sounded more like an allergy medicine brand than something a kid would be called. But then he’d given a quiet, hesitant suggestion. Almost as though he’d been afraid of her turning this particular one down. She hadn’t. It was perfect.

 

She managed to toss the men and woman around her a wink. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

 

* * *

 

 

As useless as the hospital had been for the actual birth, Aranea was relieved to find herself in one of those beds some hours later, getting some much-needed sleep while Canitia held onto her little dragoon.

 

When she awoke, however, Canitia was _not_ the one sitting in the chair next to her bed and cradling her son.

 

“Specs!” She pushed herself into a sitting position, almost wishing she hadn’t spoken so fast as she snapped a glimpse of Ignis smiling down gently at their baby. Six, what she would have paid for Blondie to have gotten a snapshot of that.

 

“Good morning, love,” Ignis said, just above a whisper.

 

By the look of things, she wasn’t the only one who’d had a rough night. Ignis didn’t look bad, but by his usual standards of spotlessness he seemed practically homeless. Torn clothes, dirt-caked pants and shoes… He must have come straight from his mission to here.

 

His posture was sagged a bit as he met her gaze. “…I am so sorry, Aranea. I should have been here–”

 

“Don’t.” She reached out to grasp his arm. “There’s no way you could have known the little bugger was going to be early.”

 

“Causing difficulties already…” He chuckled. “Hardly surprising, given that he’s our son.”

 

Aranea snorted. “Yeah. I’m just glad he’s healthy.”

 

“I’m glad you _both_ are.” Ignis continued cradling the baby with one arm while he reached out with the other and brushed back some hair from her face. “From what I’ve heard, it was a rather eventful night, involving Gladio, Nyx, Pelna, Canitia, and the _Marshal._ ”

 

“Yep… In a bar…”

 

“In a _what?_ ” Ignis demanded, blinking. “They failed to mention _that_ particular detail.”

 

“Probably wanted to avoid you chewing them out about it,” she teased. “I was actually lucky I got caught with them and not at home, though we’ll seen how much Cor can actually look me in the eye after this.”

 

Ignis scoffed. “I do hope you realize none of them have left the lobby. Though in Gladio’s case I do wonder if that has more to do with the Glaive he was flirting with when I passed.”

 

“Delilah?” Oh, please say yes…

 

He hummed.

 

She snorted. “Probably trying to lick his wounded pride that he damaged in front of her earlier.”

 

“…I really am going to have to get the full story on this.”

 

“I’ll be happy to tell you all about it.” She withdrew her grip to poke him on the arm. “During the training you’re going to help me with.”

 

“Training?” he repeated, gently shifting his arm to another position. “My word, don’t tell me that’s already on your mind?”

 

“Of course it is, I’ve been sitting on my ass for over eight months.” She reached back to situate the pillows behind her. “And I was happy to, given the reasons, but I need to get back into things as quickly as possible.” They’d already talked about this. They’d both still be taking field missions – they just wouldn’t be out on more dangerous missions both at the same time. That way if one of them was killed, the other would still be around for their kid.

 

Ignis regarded her silently for a moment. “Aranea… you know you have nothing to prove?”

 

Aranea let out a puff of air, giving him a look. “Damn right I don’t – I just pushed another human being out of my body. And, having gone through both, I can say for certain that was a hell of a lot more painful than being shot. I have nothing to prove, but you guys need me out there.”

 

“We do,” Ignis agreed. “But there’s no reason to rush–”

 

“There is every reason to rush,” Aranea interrupted. “First and foremost being that I want less daemons out there that could hurt my kid or someone else’s.”

 

Ignis nodded. “Very well. I’d be happy to spar with you whenever you wish. But first…” He glanced at the closed door. “I believe the horde is awaiting their visitation time.”

 

“Ha. Yeah.” After delivering a baby? She could handle a horde.

 

Time to introduce them to Eques Callux Scientia.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …This got very long. O_o
> 
> Anyway! The loooovely ScribeOfReaper wrote a oneshot set within Hours universe! Anybody want to read some more about our smoll Highspecs child? :) The oneshot is set between Chapter 50 and Chapter 51. 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18782467

**Author's Note:**

> And here, my lovelies, is some art some awesome people drew for 49 Hours!
> 
>  
> 
> [Here's Ignis' attempted suicide.](https://www.deviantart.com/shinigami-merchant/art/49-Hours-Art-Sacrifice-755553227)
> 
>  
> 
> [And another take on it!](https://www.deviantart.com/celestial-celly/art/The-22nd-Hour-779643414)
> 
>  
> 
> [And when Noct was having the bullet removed from his arm.](http://winterbugsy.tumblr.com/post/176357487384/this-is-old-and-so-sketchy-and-i-need-to-clean)
> 
>  
> 
> [ And the waterfall kiss!!](https://www.deviantart.com/celestial-celly/art/The-Waterfall-783079195)


End file.
